ADRENALINE E89 (156)

“Adrenaline” begins to play over a black screen for a few short moments before the picture opens to an explosion of fireworks from the entrance stage at the KeyArena in Seattle, Washington. The house is packed tonight as for another Adrenaline, just two weeks before Bad Company. Scanning over the crowd, the camera focuses on various signs held by the fans throughout the sea of bodies.

AMERICAN
F E E T S
SYNDROME

OKAY
ERIK

A R M
CANDY
BRONX

IF YOU CAN’T
CANT BEAT THEM,
REPORT THEM!

RUDE
GUY
ELI

ADOPTION
IS NOT
A TREND!

Pyro then shoots from the ring posts as the camera changes views to a shot from ringside. The noise level within the KeyArena is through the roof as the local fans are excited for Adrenaline Eighty-Nine to kickoff. Turning to the announcers booth, the camera locks on Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa who appear to be in the middle of a heated conversation. No audio is picked up from the booth but from the looks of it, the conversation doesn’t appear to be too pleasant. Nearly a minute passes as the camera remains unnoticed by the duo at ringside, before eventually cutting away to the back and skipping the formal introductions.

Another nondescript backstage scene unravels with the center bringing the sight of second-time 4CW debutant; David Sanchez. Standing in a grey wrought-iron mask, his black wrestling trunks and polished beyond belief black boots he casts an intimidating shadow onto the white plasterboard behind him.

SANCHEZ: “A man walks into a bar…”

He breaks the silence with an out of character set-up for a joke, unclipping his mask at the base of the skull.

SANCHEZ: “Nobody famous, nowhere well known. Just a man… and a bar.”

He lifts and subsequently removes his headgear, cradling it like a newborn as he furthers his spiel.

SANCHEZ: “… He drinks his weight in Ouzo. Greek drink, tastes like liquorice and fire.”

That same smug sense of self-worth. That same sans-soul expression.

SANCHEZ: “Thirty minutes later… said bar burns to the ground. Seventeen people die in the flames. Mostly just drunks and street trash, but yeah… pretty much everybody inside gets reduced to ash.”

The corridor is quaint and quiet. Nothing of interest can be seen barring the various buffet tables and coffee urns.

SANCHEZ: “What? you were expecting a little jokey-joke? Grow up, wrestling isn’t supposed to be funny. This isn’t a romantic comedy. It’s high time everybody realized that– and that’s where I come in. My purpose is to remind you mooks of wrestling’s roots. Four Corners has neglected the true heart and soul of the sport for too long, making this place no more than a glorified, syndicated soap opera. It’s sports entertainment now, it’s 2018…I get it, I really do. Watching two guys beat the fuck out of one another is captivating. But make no mistake about it, ‘sports entertainment’ is just another way to say ‘the death of wrestling.’ And it’s an image and an idea that’s been abused here too long.”

He turns to the spread on the catering table and motions down at all the delicious food on the white plastic tables. Before taking a slice of smoked salmon and shoving it between his lips, giving a thumbs up to the camera as he devours it. Smacking his lips and making a ‘yum yum’ noise without ever opening his mouth as manners would dictate.

SANCHEZ: “It’s time people like the painted-up, preachy Viduus Mortas and the stupidly shaven Andre Holmeses had their metal tested by a man who makes good on his word when he says he’s the best– instead of all these sycophants and spasticated, salivating wolves in sheep’s clothing. I represent wrestling in its forgotten, greater form… I don’t waste my time with theatrics or fun and games, nor do I serve a fuckin’ fictional higher power. I believe fireworks are for bonfire night and the 4th of July, not fucking dramatic entrances. This food? This fancy fuckin’ deli platter, the kale? The gluten free croissants? What the fuck kind of food is this for grown men? When I started doing this shit we just drank beer and ate chips. Even the spread tables these days are aimed at vegans and leg-day dicks.”

He turns away from the fancy food, shaking his head in disgust despite having just thoroughly enjoyed a taste of it.

SANCHEZ: “… and then of course, at the very bottom of the food chain– we have the man I’ll be fighting in that ring tonight, Mr. Alessandro Quagliaterre. An ambassador for all millennial douchebags and a river to his people. A man who this past week had nothing more hurtful to throw at me than childish insults and his own faeces in the form of film. How fitting it shall be that I’m cutting my teeth in this company by serving this most annoying of pests his fifth consecutive loss in 4CW. Hopefully that’s due cause enough for him to quit, but he doesn’t seem smart enough to see the signs, to see the simplest of truths… that sadly he’s just not good enough to get the job done here consistently, or convincingly. Such a shame, to see a career cut down at eight years instead of allowing it to die naturally. But alas– euthanasia wasn’t dreamed up for no reason.”

He smiles a sort-of half grin that looks forced at best before muttering his parting sentiments as he walks off towards the stage, re-fastening his metal mask as he goes.

SANCHEZ: “Dr Sanchez… checking in for duty. Nurse, fetch my scalpel please and cover your ears. This one looks like screamer…”

OPENING MATCH
DAVID SANCHEZ VS. ALESSANDRO QUAGLIATERRE

The match begins with a series of rapid fire textbooks maneuvers to hype up the crowd. In quick succession, AQ and Sanchez exchanged a series of arm drags, hip tosses, and drop toe holds. Quagliaterre assumed early control after a Yokosuka facebuster and quick pin attempt, to no avail. The match moved forward with Alessandro in control. One highlight saw AQ land a Flapjack punch, a heart punch, and a spinning backfist in rapid succession, resulting in a near fall. Quagliaterre took Sanchez to the corner and delivered a stiff kick to the midsection before setting him on the top turnbuckle. He motioned to the fans for support before he executed a textbook superplex, which resulted in another near fall. After some more back and forth, AQ locked in a fujiwara armbar. The hold lasted a little over a minute, all while AQ demanded that the referee, “ask him!” Sanchez was able to finally counter the submission, however, by rolling one of 4CW’s biggest mouths into a school boy pin attempt. After a rather quick two count, AQ escaped and returned the match to his favor by delivering a missile drop kick to Sanchez’s head.

After a couple of minutes, Sanchez was able to reverse the momentum. AQ had returned to a Fujiwara armbar and Sanchez, instead of scrambling for the ropes, found his way beneath Quagliaterre all the way until he was out in front of him. Sanchez attempted to lift him with a single arm several times, but Ales’ 240 pound frame was too much to hoss, so Sanchez settled for a half-measure lift, driving his opponent into the turnbuckle with an almost lawn-dart like maneuver. With that, Sanchez, favoring his left arm, found AQ in the corner and proceeded to punish him with a series of clinched Muay-Thai knee strikes, before taking him to the ground with a STO takedown. It’s at this moment that the 4CW faithful realized just how god-awfully ugly David Sanchez was. He was Elephant Man ugly, but he talked real good, so folks forgave him for that.

Sanchez then proceeded to put a beat down on AQ in the way of suplexes. German suplexes. Tiger suplexes- multiple ones. Ones that left the smarks in the audience wondering if AQ might need an MRI following the onslaught. After three snap butterfly suplexes, AQ had nearly lost consciousness, falling victim to a two and nine-tenths count. Nevertheless, he kicked out. The series of offense had the crowd in a frenzy. Sanchez found his feet and performed a knee drop to the throat, working on the neck/back of head area that he had begun punishing with his wide array of suplexes. Soon after, a punt to the throat occurred, and AQ grabbed his neck in agony. The fans cheered on the absolute bludgeoning of Quagliaterre. There was another pin attempt by Sanchez, but the prideful Alessandro kicked out at the very last nanosecond possible. Quagliaterre turned the match’s momentum back in his favor about a minute later with a low blow. This, however, did not last long, before Sanchez reassumed control.

After some setup, Sanchez was able to hit “Tramadol Nights,” one of his nineteen signature moves, a shin-breaker lift brainbuster- returning the cranial punishment that Sanchez had recently delivered unto him. A quick cover resulted in a heartbreaking near fall. Sanchez pleaded with the referee to count faster. Incensed, Sanchez lifted Quagliaterre to his feet and sent him into the turnbuckle HARD with an Irish whip. Quagliaterre bounced off and proceeded to feel the wrath of not one, not two, but THREE “Bucklebombardments,” – or, three cleverly named pop-up powerbombs into the turnbuckle. Sanchez went for the cover confidently, failing to hook a leg. It failed, as with a tenth of a second left, Quagliaterre’s shoulder blade found an inch of air between it and the mat.

Moments later, Quagliaterre found himself in control of the match once more. After a Dreamcatcher bearhug, Alessandro sent his opponent careening toward the ropes. Upon Sanchez’s return, he was met with a Zidane Headbutt!! A pin attempt ensued, but it was thwarted by Sanchez’s will to win. The crowd was sufficiently hyped up for the night, chanting “4CW” over and over as the match progressed. The end came when Quagliaterre punched himself in the head a few moments too long before sending Sanchez toward the ropes, once again. As AQ dove forward aggressively, looking to connect with another Zidane Headbutt, Sanchez cut him short- landing a DISGUSTING, high-impact Yakuza kick to Alessandro’s vulnerable, momentum filled head- a move Sanchez refers to as, “Medusa’s Touch.” The crowd gasped, and three seconds later, David Sanchez found himself the winner of his debut match in Four Corners Wrestling.

WINNER: David Sanchez via Pinfall (8:29)

After David Sanchez had celebrated his victory and walked up the ramp way, to go behind the curtain, the camera panned back into the ring. A dejected Alessandro Quagliaterre, gets up. He tries to regain his bearings to make sense of what just happened. Winded and deflated, he takes a few moments to get his breath after his match. Once he had, while he was still short of breath, he grabs a microphone passed onto him by Mike Powers.

QUAGLIATERRE: ”I’ve been… SHIT… for the last two months.”

He was referring to his unsuccessful outings in a 4CW ring. The crowd let out a huge ‘WHAT’ chant to mock Alessandro.

QUAGLIATERRE: ”Sooner… rather than later… I’m going to win again.”

He paused as the crowd let out another ‘WHAT’ chant. Alessandro decided to annoy the crowd by getting a chair, sitting on it, and drinking out of a water bottle. He did this for a good minute which irked the crowd as they began to jeer louder and louder. Alessandro was undeterred. He did this part to evoke a response from the Seattle audience and to allow himself to have enough energy to string a sentence together. Once he had that energy, he resumed his speech.

QUAGLIATERRE: ”When I do it won’t just be one win, it’ll be the start of a reckoning. Just you wait.”

He continued where he left off.

QUAGLIATERRE: ”While other wrestlers are walking away, or taking a break due to burn out. I don’t. As bad as it has got for me professionally, and personally these last few months, the thought of leaving 4CW hasn’t once crossed my mind.”

The crowd started chanting WWH. This made Alessandro very mad.

QUAGLIATERRE: ”You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Whether or not I’m ever consider a 4CW guy due to my past, I don’t give a fuck. That’s not what’s important to me. I’ll keep pushing on regardless, picking myself up and dusting myself off. For what is important, is being the best possible Alessandro Quagliaterre that I can be inside this wrestling ring, and the truth is I haven’t been for many months.”

It was hard to accept. But it needed to be said out loud.

QUAGLIATERRE: ”Enjoy this moment.”

The crowd did.

QUAGLIATERRE: ”Enjoy this feeling… of laughing at my demise.”

They laughed.

QUAGLIATERRE: ”Savor it, throw your shade, throw your dirt, throw your abuse. I’ll take it.”

They chanted ‘YOU DESERVE IT’ for Seattle believed Alessandro was a piece of shit.

QUAGLIATERRE: ”You’re right I do deserve it.”

They weren’t expecting him to agree with them and that shut them up as he spoke freely,

QUAGLIATERRE: ”Just know, that when I do get my shit together. When I do finally get that all elusive win, and start my journey once again to becoming a success. When that does happen, I’m going to shove it down all your throats, and I’m never going to let you forget it.”

He grits his teeth, taking a deep breath as The Seattle crowd continued to show their hate.

QUAGLIATERRE: ”Oh don’t worry Seattle, I know when that does happen, I won’t be in a bum city like this. I’ll be some place better.”

That perked the crowd up who continued their verbal abuse at Alessandro with many different obscenities and offensive slurs.

QUAGLIATERRE: ”God Bless America…”

Alessandro showed his patriotism.

QUAGLIATERRE: ”But Fuck Seattle.”

This pissed off the crowd beyond belief. Security had to guard the railings as three words by Alessandro sent the arena into absolute pandemonium. Mike Powers suggested Alessandro ‘best get to popping as the crowd were hella mad’. Alessandro laughed but nodded at Mike in agreement

QUAGLIATERRE: ”You guys are so mad. My work here is done. Peace out.”

He saluted the crowd which they did not appreciate at all. He then walked out of the ring and gingerly made his way to the back up the ramp way to save the outbreak of a riot.

The camera cuts backstage, where DA #TROLL GUY, Mariano Fernandez, in his locker room and already in his wrestling gear, is looking straight at the camera.

FERNANDEZ: “Confidence is, has always been, kinda hard for me, mang. For other people, not so much, because it’s easy to throw words around if they’re meant to fill silence, if there’s nothing behind to sustain them.”

He shakes his head no.

FERNANDEZ: “And hence why for me it’s so difficult – because every word I utter is supposed to MEAN something, mang. It’s meant to be made a reality. It’s meant for people to hear them, process them in their brains and make their meanings their own – then the next moment they turn their heads, they SEE that meaning take place and form before their very eyes.”

After this, Manny sighs.

FERNANDEZ: “Jair Hopkins made of confidence a very important thing, something he tried to use against me. It’s simpler for him to build it after defeating a powered-down Aidan Carlisle, whose mind wasn’t in it no more. I had to build it from a wounded, yet still spirited, not done Mark Storm. Make no mistake, chicos, it was a fight, and one that I was fortunately able to win. And with it, somehow, came the number in the rankings Jair noticed me for. I’ll confess, it’s not much, but that does one nice for some confidence.”

Mariano smiles slightly, but then the smile fades away as his face turns serious.

FERNANDEZ: “And that’s why I have to look after it, mang. Jair might say this match was two years too late, that we’re in two different levels, but I completely disagree. For me this match MEANS much more than it does for him. Not only because it IS him, and he’s represented 4CW since the beginning, and all accolades aside, but because I don’t HAVE this kind of opportunities often. And he’s nowhere NEAR the amount of things I have to lose.”

He shakes his head once more, vigorously.

FERNANDEZ: “Because my confidence Jair thinks is bitten? It’s been long bitten ever since returning. There was little to have left, and I don’t know what would have happened if I didn’t make something right after Ante Up. I might have been close to making a terrible mistake, one that took the best of Aidan, and made her leave once more.”

A small silence, as he pauses.

FERNANDEZ: “I couldn’t make that mistake, mang, and I’m not gonna make it now. My confidence was hit alright, but right now I’m only JUST rebuilding. Right now this has only JUST started, and great as Jair may be, I ain’t letting him nip it in the bud. I ain’t letting Jair Hopkins try to break down what little I have ONLY for him to brush me off and move on to greater things. ‘Cause I KNOW that’s what he’s thinking, mang. That’s why he said this match was two years too late. That’s why he still sees Viduus Morta everywhere he goes. That’s the entire scope of his impressions of this match.”

FERNANDEZ: “And even though Jair is a great guy and we’ve sang each other’s praises before the match, I’ve suffered enough disrespect in my life and my career to let that perception be true.”

He nods.

FERNANDEZ: “This is why I have to win. This is why, even if this match is in the undercard, it’s important enough to stand by itself without a Main Event or a Pay-Per-View. And this is why tonight the Comeback King’s triumphant return is gonna be postponed. Because he comes into this match believing it’s just one more.”

After that, he slams his fist against his palm.

FERNANDEZ: “And I’m gonna show the ultimate underdog that not just me, but the people in the Key Arena, the people tuning in, the people in the locker room and the front office, and most importantly HIMSELF, deserve better than that.”

And after that, he walks away, leaving the camera staring at the locker room, before it fades to black.

In his locker room, alone, Johnny Storm looks down into the opened comic book with an almost existential dread.

STORM: ”I can’t believe this…”

He looks astonished, turning the pages of the comic book, thoroughly ensconced with what he’s reading.

STORM: ”It’s like they’re taking pages right out of my life…. I gotta sue this Marvel Comics Group….”

He conveniently tilts the comic up to reveal the cover. It is a Captain America comic.

STORM: ”I’m going to use that line against Dr. Vice…that’s a good one. ”

He flips the page again, like he can’t put it down. Until over the top of the comic he sees the camera and sets it down.

STORM: ”Oh, hello. Didn’t hear you come in.”

Johnny stands, resting his Captain America comic pm to of a stack and rising up off the bench address the camera.

STORM: ”Don’t worry. I won’t let my pending lawsuit against Marvel Comics detract me from my mission, fight fans. While Uncle Sam is off getting ready for this upcoming match, I’ve taken this time to center myself for the upcoming battle with my new greatest nemesis, Dr. Stranglepoli. Doctor… let me say one thing to you.”

STORM: ”I don’t fear you.”

STORM: ”I’ll never fear you.”

STORM: ”You stand for everything I will am here to fight in 4CW, and I will stop at nothing tonight till you are FINISHED. You gfot that? I… am Captain America Johnny Storm. Me. I’m a hero. A warrior. And soon….? I’ll be a champion.”

He looks down at his clenched red-fist and shakes his head before looking innocently back at the camera.

STORM: ”But on a serious note, what the hell were you talking about when you said you would be the United States champion, Doctor. What the heck belt is that and where do I go to get it?”

STORM: ”There’s something you need to understand aside from the names of the titles in 4CW… it’s the Captain America Johnny Storm doesn’t just represent the United States. He, I, me, I represent America. NORTH America. And that’s right where my eyes are every time I set foot in the ring ready to clobber some guy who wants to stand in my way.”

STORM: ”Which leads me to the perfect chance to unveil my brand new catch phrase, Dr. Vice…”

STORM: ”You know what time it is?”

The camera zooms in for a closeup.

STORM: ”It’s CLOBBERIN’ time!”

Johnny grins at how clever he presumes he is. And we fade.

UNDERCARD
JOHNNY STORM VS. VICTOR STRANGLEPOLI

And we’re back at ringside with the men in masks, as if this were pulled straight from a comic book! With one coming from south of the border and the other representing America to the fullest, we have ourselves a battle of the nations right here on Adrenaline! Per usual, Stranglepoli entered the ring with his trusty steel chair guitar in hand. Unfortunately for him, Johnny wasn’t a fan of the tunes he was playing. After snatching the chair from Stranglepoli’s hands, it didn’t take long before things popped off inside of the ring. Johnny wasn’t even going to attempt to use the chair as a weapon but before he knew it, Stranglepoli kicked it out of his hands and followed up with swift kick to the stomach. Locking his arm around Johnny’s head, Stranglepoli planted him head first into the canvas with a snap DDT! Grabbing ahold of Johnny’s arm, Stranglepoli quickly locked in an arm bar. Johnny voice then filled the entire arena as he yelled from the pain. On the outside of the ring, Samantha just shook her head as she watched him fight to pull himself free. Yelling at him, she was finally able to get his attention, pointing to the ropes that were well within arms length. Grabbing ahold of them, Johnny saved the day, at least for himself, as Stranglepoli was forced to release the maneuver.

It wasn’t long before both men were back on their feet and circling one another in the center of the ring. Stranglepoli lunged in towards Johnny, but was quickly taken off his feet as Johnny lifted him into the air with ease before slamming him back to the canvas with his American spinning powerslam! Mounting himself on top of Stranglepoli, Johnny began swinging away with a ground and pound, for Justice! Blow after blow, he lit Stranglepoli’s face up like the Fourth of July. Connecting with a fifth solid blow to Stranglepoli’s face, Johnny immediately shot up to his feet before turning his back to his fallen victim. Flipping backwards through the air, his body splashed down onto Stranglepoli with his Freedomsault. That’s a standing moonsault for those wondering at home. Hooking a leg, Johnny went to put Stranglepoli away but came up short with only a two count as Stranglepoli kicked out. Johnny didn’t let it get to him, though. He quickly stood to his feet and as he leaned down to pick Stranglepoli up from the mat, his voice once again filled the entire arena as Stranglepoli grabbed him by the crotch. Holding onto Johnny’s family jewels tightly, Stranglepoli climbed back to his feet before looking Johnny in the eyes while squeezing even tighter with his Testicle Claw Hold. Wrapping Johnny up with his other arm, Stranglepoli then lifted him off his feet before slamming him down to the mat with force. Stranglepoli went to make the cover but the official was nowhere to be found with the count. Looking up in confusion, Stranglepoli was then confronted with warnings from the official for the maneuver. Refusing to count, the official stood back, watching until Stranglepoli climbed back to his feet.

A few moments pass as the official and Stranglepoli argue with one another over the illegal maneuver, giving Johnny all the time in the world to get back to his feet and collect himself. Rushing in towards Stranglepoli, Johnny went airborne as he aimed his feet straight towards Stranglepoli with his Liberty Dropkick. Seeing Johnny in the corner of his eye, Stranglepoli quickly spun out of the way, leaving Johnny nothing but air to kick and canvas to break his fall as gravity pulled him down. Stranglepoli went to town, stomping down wildly onto Johnny, not giving him a single second to attempt climbing to his feet. After a stiff kick to Johnny’s ribs, Stranglepoli raises his foot into the air as high as he could. Just as he went to stomp down onto Johnny, it was if his body froze. With his foot still elevated, Stranglepoli looked to the apron where Samantha stood in all of her glory. She waved for him to come towards her, and he did, but not without giving Johnny one last stomp to the midsection. After all, his foot was already in the air and he had to place it back down to walk over to her. Samantha was very distracting as she leaned over the ropes, showing off the goods which Stranglepoli couldn’t take his eyes off of. Looking over his shoulder, she noticed Johnny slowly beginning to get back to his feet. Stranglepoli was lost looking at them, which was the plan all along as Johnny was now up and closing in behind Stranglepoli.

Grabbing Stranglepoli by the shoulder, Johnny spun him around and kicked him in the stomach before Stranglepoli even knew what hit him. Locking onto Stranglepoli’s arm, Johnny went to whip him into the nearby corner but Stranglepoli reversesd it and sent Johnny crashing into it instead. Johnny’s back smacked the corner, forcing him to bounce off and as he did, he leaped straight into the air, wrapping both legs around Stranglepoli’s head. Flipping backwards, he lifted Stranglepoli off his feet and drove him head first into the turnbuckle with a Frankensteiner! Stranglepoli was seeing stars, and possibly even stripes after the brutal blow to the head. On his feet, Johnny then pulled Stranglepoli up from the mat before locking one arm around his head and hooking a leg with the other. Lifting Stranglepoli upside down into the air with a fisherman’s suplex, Johnny then transitioned the move into a piledriver, dropping Stranglepoli on top of his head with his Freedom Driver! Rolling Stranglepoli to his back, Johnny quickly covered him as the official slid in beside them with the one, the two, and the three!

WINNER: Johnny Storm via Pinfall (9:11)

American Tommy and Kimitsu Zombie are sitting in their locker room when a camera guy and a 4CW interviewer come barging into their room. Kimitsu looks up with a scowl on her face as Tommy walks over to the man and appears to be in an absolute shit mood.

ZOMBIE: “Leave. I think we said enough in our video packages to give you enough material to hype this match up.”

The interviewer nods and begins to leave.

TOMMY: “No, fuck that. I got more to say.”

Tommy grabs the microphone and looks into the camera.

TOMMY: “Andre Holmes wouldn’t realize this, because he’s been inconsistent as fuck since he arrived in 4CW, but I don’t need to do shit to get attention here in 4CW. Winning consistently brings all the attention to myself that I need. This championship right here brings more attention to me than he could ever dream about having. Why is it all guys that nobody gives a fuck about trying to say that people are attention whores? What the fuck have you ever done for me that should get me on my hands and knees? You got lucky and beat me. Say what you want, but our career paths we have taken since that match prove my point about it being luck more than anything that I could ever say. Sure, I latch onto things. They are called titles and I win them. You should try it sometime. Another thing, mother fucker. Don’t ever doubt me being a Directioner. That’s probably the dumbest thing you said in your video package and it was full of autistic shit. Saying I’m not a real wrestler when all I do is fucking win. Ok. You really showed the hits to the head on that statement. Enjoy looking at my title when we wrestle tonight because it’s the closet you’ll ever fucking come to winning one in 4CW.”

Tommy raises a cardboard title in the air that I guess is supposed to be the Octane Championship?

TOMMY: “And Mark, everybody knew that the Dogs of War were gonna come to 4CW eventually. It’s the only fucking thing that draws for you anymore. The Dogs of War don’t need you. You need the Dogs of War to stay relevant. It was a fucking given, but honestly it doesn’t fucking matter. I could take each and everyone of you on at the same fucking time with my hands tied behind my back and I’d still fucking beat you. Nobody fucking cares about them. Bring them. Bring them all and try to “wreck havoc” here in 4CW. Talk is talk and that’s all you’ve fucking been since you arrived. Don’t tell me that you are the same wrestler I loved. Fucking show me tonight, but between you and I? You won’t. The only thing tonight is going to prove is that not only are the Dogs of War a fucking joke, but so are you.”

Tommy looks at the interviewer.

TOMMY: “Now you can get the fuck out.”

And the interviewer does just that as Kimitsu looks at Tommy with wide eyes as he sits down and puts his headphones in to listen to some music.

FISHER: ”It’s just a fuckin’ boat Cosmo, Jesus Christ!”

Jeb Fisher adjusts his tag-team championship is hanging from his shoulder as he looks over at Cosmo. The two men are just arriving at the building, making their way through the parking structure with their ring bags in tow. Cosmo lets his free hand rest on his championship which is wrapped around his waist as he looks over at Jeb.

COOPER: “No bro! It’s like a car… That runs on water!”

By the way the two went back and forth, it would seem as if they have been having this argument for sometime now. Jeb scoffed at Cosmo’s remark and just as he was going to reply, he is cut off by a familiar cockney accent.

RIDDLE: “Lookie what we have here bruv, a couple of young slits thinkin’ they got what it takes to bring down Omerta.”

A instant snarl forms on the face of Jeb as he turns around and is met face to face with Dakota Smith, who is only a few inches away – close enough so that they almost touched noses.

FISHER: ”THE FUCK!”

Dakota extends out his tongue and licks the side of Jeb’s face – who instantly shoves him back, causing Dakota to bump into Cyrus. The butcher lets out a manic laugh as Jeb tries to scrub the vile off of his face.

SMITH: ”Little Jebediah Fisher, and the bitch he sticks his wee little prick into. How you two ladies doing this fine evening?”

Cosmo scowls when he notices the emergence of their opponents for the week. Cooper looked Dakota up and down before crossing his arms, stepping shoulder to shoulder with Jeb.

COOPER: “The TAG champs are doing great. Did you guys want to come see what a team looks like that can actually hold titles for more than five minutes… or did you guys smell something dead to roll in outside in the parking lot because you’ve ran out of other edgy shit to do.”

Riddle looks to Dakota, then back to Cosmo, a slight laugh preceding a smile.

RIDDLE: “That’s cute, Cooper. No, we like to get up close and personal with our victims before we execute. Like I said, you may be reigning right now, but one hiccup and you two will fold faster than Molly Reid’s spine. Omerta… we are the long standing… tonight, and at Bad Company, we show you and everyone else what they’ve been missing.”

The butcher takes a step towards Cosmo, sniffing the air around him like a rabid dog smelling a bleeding wound. He smirks as he looks at Cosmo out the corner of his eye.

SMITH: ”You ain’t even begin to see my edge boy.”

Dakota licks the air around him, making a sound similar to hannibal lector, Jeb steps in and places one hand on Dakota’s shoulder before pushing him back. Causing the butcher to chuckle in a unnerving way.

COOPER: “The only thing you both have executed in the last two years is ratings if you’re sniffing the main event.”

A large grin smeared across the face of Jeb as he listened to his partner speak, Jeb glanced down at the championship on his shoulder before looking back at Omerta.

FISHER: ”OI! Guv’na? Is that right? You gon’ cripple our spines? Shut the fuck old man before I put you out like Bob. You ain’t shit Riddle, and Dakota… Well you’re just one shot away from getting fucked into nonexistence!”

Riddle takes a step closer to Jeb, stroking his beard and staring eye to eye.

RIDDLE: “Is that so? A thirty three year old man with more championships to his name than you have miserable years living? And I didn’t have to crawl from underneath some old cunt’s ballbag to finally speak up for myself, Jebediah. I will stand in your way, beat you down, until I’m pulled away. You don’t have it in you to do anything but fuckin’ talk.”

Cooper smugly laughed.

COOPER: ”Anything but fuckin’ talk with championships currently over our shoulder. Looks like you boys are doing all of the talking… with… what to back it up? You’re talking to the greatest 4CW tag champions of all time. So when we shut you up tonight, don’t feel so bad because you can find us at the top of those history books when it’s all said and done and you’re both… well… hopefully retired.”

Dakota’s eyes go wide, and he can’t help but to bust out a laugh HA!

SMITH: ”That history book, that you are so eager to make your mark in… We fucking created it! And our names will forever be written down inside of it. But yours Cosmo? Your name will never be in it. BattleBorn sure, but you, yourself? You are nothing but the smallest drip of water in an already overflowing ocean. What have you proved without Jeb? Compare that to everything I and Riddle have done, without needing each other.”

RIDDLE: “You name the tier, and we not only innovated it, but dominated it. From tagging with some of the most abhorrent partners imaginable, to the very top with extensive solo reigns, and all in between. I’ve made the towns, traveled the countries. We’ve seen what you are just now opening your eyes to, and we did it when there wasn’t instant accessibility. We didn’t carve our names in already existing niches, we created them.”

Jeb steps forward, smacking the championship on his shoulder, he then reaches over and gives Cosmo’s championship a good smack as well.

FISHER: ”But what in the fuck have you two done lately? Besides show the whole entire world what happens when two men stay past their prime. Both of you turning into fuckin’ soap operas! Who can barely win a match, yet alone defeat the TAG-TEAM CHAMPIONS! Aging relics of an age every 4CW fan would just like to forget. You paved the foundation? Well we renovated it to heights you two b-movie monster wannabes couldn’t even imagine!”

Cosmo smirked to his partner.

COOPER: ”Yo if these guys were as good in the ring as they were standing backstage and talking, they might already be tag champions instead of catering champs.”

With a mocking look on his face Dakota begins to walk toward Cosmo, slightly chuckling as if to say, really? When he gets close enough, instead of speaking more words. He stiff kicks Cosmo right in his fucking ballsack! Cosmo blurts out in pain as his championship falls to the ground. Jeb instantly rages going to strike at Dakota but Riddle catches him. Dakota then grabs Cosmo by the hair, he drags him over to parked car and lifts him up into the air, before tossing him at the cars windshield! It shatters with a loud cracking noise.

Jeb notices this and gets the upper hand on Riddle, delivering a sickening headbutt, followed up by a knee directly to the Brit’s chin. Jeb sprints over to Dakota, like a gorilla on loose! He grabs a handful of Dakota’s hair from the back and just lets lose rabid punches on his face. The sickening thud of Jeb’s fist hitting Dakota’s face is something that will scar some of the viewers here tonight.

Dakota is able to break free but Jeb really doesn’t give a fuck as he just continues haymakers at Dakota. Finally Riddle gets back up to his feet and makes his way over to Jeb, locking in a deep sleeper hold on the man. Jeb isn’t able to fight out of it as Dakota comes to his sense. He goes to swing but his hand is caught by security! Which has now swarmed the scene trying to break the three apart. While all of this happening Cosmo has gotten back up to his feet, and is standing on top of the car. He sees all the security, he sees Jeb still in the sleeper and does the only reasonable thing. With a small running start he jumps off of the car and onto the mob of people underneath with a flipping senton! Everyone crumbles including the cameraman for some reason, who had apparently gotten to close, thus ending the scene with a cut to static.

UNDERCARD
DOGS OF WAR VS. AMERICAN TOMMY & KIMITSU ZOMBIE

The crowd is abuzz with anticipation for the start of the match. For the very first time, two Dogs of War will be fighting the same battle in the ring together. Fan favorites, American Tommy and Kimitsu Zombie have their marks all atwitter in anticipation of their Bad Company run. Mark Storm and American Tommy start out the match with a solid back and forth of textbook wrestling maneuvers. Tommy connects with a series of hip tosses, those devastating hip tosses, and takes control of the match. At one point, he locked Storm’s arms beneath his own and took him for a ride with an airplane spin, causing the crowd to react positively. Soon after, Kimi is tagged in and, with Mark Storm downed in their corner, utilize their natural chemistry to connect with a powerbomb- but not how you might think. Instead, American Tommy powerbombs his own girlfriend onto a prone Storm to a huge pop from the fans. Zombie then wastes no time. Rolling over, she grabs a hold of Storm’s head and slams it into the mat with reckless abandon, taking the battering as far as the referee will let her. Immediately, she follows it with a La Magistral pin attempt to no avail.

After Storm kicks out, he reaches up and punches Kimi in the breast- which, I’m told, hurts almost as much as when a guy gets kicked in the nuts. She falls backward and Storm gives chase, knocking her in her skull with an enziguri. He follows this up with a series of open palm strikes to the grill. Dragging Kimi by her feet, he lands her in the corner belonging to the Dogs of War. He tags Andre Holmes in and then goes about lifting Zombie to her feet. Promptly, he connects with a high kick to Kimi’s chest in unison with a Holmes’ leg sweep. Double teamed, Zombie lies in agony on the mat, but the punishment isn’t over. Without skipping one, single beat, Storm lands standing moonsault. Not to be outdone, immediately after Storm removes himself from atop Zombie, Holmes lands a standing shooting star splash! The crowd pops HUGE for the rapid fire offense! In his corner, American Tommy is visibly pained in his corner- both because of the brutal onslaught dealt his girlfriend, and also because he realized that he was facing Andre Holmes, who he should have known would send in extremely detailed spots to occur. Anyway, Kimi lay decimated in the corner of the Dogs of War. Holmes goes for the pin!

ONE

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TWO

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Kimi kicked out to the astonishment of the 4CW packed house! Holmes brought her to her feet, just to grab her by her wrist, flip upside down, and lock in an arm bar. The hold lasts for nearly half a minute before Tommy can’t bear to see his girlfriend in such pain anymore and rushes the legal persons, crushing Holmes with a cannonball. Storm rushes the ring and rocks the emerging Tommy with a lariat, flipping him over in the air- but Tommy reaches out desperately in mid-air, wanting to deter another double team on his girlfriend- and grabs Storm around the waist, allowing momentum to throw one of the original Dogs of War out of the ring. He follows, barely escaping the grasp of Andre Holmes! Ringside, Tommy and Storm brawl. Turning around, Holmes found Kimi waiting for him with bad, bad intentions. There’s a physical weakness in men- one that will enable another to lead them in any direction a possessor may desire- and that weakness is in the balls. Kimi shot in and around the side of Holmes, assuming control of his back. She then slid her hands from around his waist, down to his balls, turned him around as he screamed in agonizing pain, and proceeded to throw him over her head, hitting the universally feared and maligned BALLSPLEX!!! In unison, the male members of the crowd groaned as thie women cheered, and she covered for an astoundingly near fall.

As minutes passed, anarchy returned to normalcy and the two original legal men occupied the ring. Tommy had just thrown Storm into the turnbuckle so hard that Storm bounced off and up before crashing down, landing in the unforgiving arms of the turnbuckles, enabling Tommy to land his “Broken Snitch,” variation of a bronco buster- but it didn’t stop there. He tagged in Kimi and they mockingly danced into the corner opposing Storm. Harry Potter then lifted Kimi up in an atomic drop sort of way, but then began rushing forward, tossing her from near mid-ring all the way onto the still defenseless Storm, who found himself yet again on the receiving end of a Kimi style Broken Snitch- meaning that she grabbed his balls while she bounced up and down on his face. Holmes knew that this was bad news, and he rushed the ring, kneeing Kimi in the side of the head, which sent her out of the ring with fury.

Tommy rushed to attack his woman’s attacker, but got caught by Holmes who hit a Uranage backbreaker onto Mark’s awaiting knee, who then lariated Tommy to the ground- the move, though seemingly planned- was not, as Mark’s balls were still recovering from the recent Broken Snitch variation. Tommy rolled from the ring, while a relatively dazed Kimi rolled back in to beat the count. Holmes grabbed her upon her finding her footing and threw her into the corner, swiftly following her with a Yakuza kick, which sent her flying into the turnbuckle for a short moment, before Holmes sent her in Storm’s direction, who rotated her to an inverted position before driving her to the mat with a tombstone piledriver. A moment later, Holmes hit a Phoenix slash- the succession of maneuvers was later dubbed, “Storm of the Relentless.” Storm dropped down for the cover as Tommy attempted to make his way back into the ring. Holmes dove on Tommy and Storm succeeded in acquiring the three count.

WINNER: Dogs of War via Pinfall (12:47)

To the back! As we rush forward, as we follow the apparent sound of struggling. There are lots of bangs and crash noises, as well as some audible grunting and sounds of great turmoil. One voice carries an Irish twang but with elements of other dialects, the other is as San Franciscan as they come.

? ? ?: ”Hold it there, we need to turn it around.”

? ? ?: ”I’m starting to think bringing this to the arena was a bad idea…”

? ? ?: ”No, we’ll be fine, just gotta…”

Coming around a corner, A.J. Morales and Emery Layton, appear to be carrying a massive Wedding Cake. It’s at least eight or nine tiers, and has a little bride and groom already on top of it. They clock us and scramble to put it down with a few calls of “shit” and “dammit”. Emery- who is wearing a little mask much like a highwayman, which she quickly takes off and hides behind her back- stands with a cheesy grin, like a child who’s been found stealing from the cookie jar.

LAYTON: Hiiiiiiiiiiii.”

MORALES: ”What’s good, Seattle? Don’t mind the cake. We’re just looking after it.”

LAYTON: ”We didn’t steal it you can’t prove it you’ll never take us alive.”

A.J. looks at Em. She is quiet for a moment until she nods, proudly.

LAYTON: ”I’m very convincing!”

Em puts her hands on her hips and smiles, big toothy grin for a job well done. A.J. can’t help cracking up, and he puts an arm around her.

MORALES: “Yes you are.”

A.J. flips his hair out of his face as he turns his attention to the camera.

MORALES: “What we are gonna steal, though, is this show tonight, ‘cause the two of us have got back-to-back headliners with some of 4CW’s biggest names, ain’t that right, Em?”

LAYTON: ”That’s right! We couldn’t just have one of us in a headline match, we gotta have two of them! Two! Count ‘em! I got the big returning star and you got the best in the world! Well, one of ‘em. Met a lot of ‘best in the worlds’, me…”

MORALES: “Oh, boy, here we go…”

LAYTON: ”Met a best in the world in Camden a few years back, he had a mean kick. Came from London, I think? Can’t remember. Bought me some chips, though…”

A.J. looks at the camera and mouths “She’s not kidding” while Emery keeps talking.

LAYTON: ”Met one in Japan! She was lovely. Dead scary, though. Screamed a lot. Ooh! And there was a dude who called himself ‘best in the world’ in Chicago a few years back but he’s a bit of a dickhead. Didn’t take to him…”

MORALES: “Yeah, but his heart was in the right place…or at least he made it look that way on TV.”

LAYTON: ”And now Bronx! And Genie! Love meeting bests in the worlds. These dudes might just be the bestiest of all the best in the worlds I ever met.”

MORALES: “…except us, of course.”

LAYTON: ”But that’s why we steal wedding cake! Now, you might be like ‘hey, Em, me old pal, how does that make any sense? And also your hair looks great tonight’ and to that I say thank you, but also it does make sense! See we coulda just gone out and bought cake! We coulda settled for less, but look at this thing that we didn’t steal you can’t prove it! Look at it! This is a super cake! It’s got loadsa tiers! You put this cake up against normal cake and everyone’s gonna look at this and go ‘I wanna bit of that!’ but me and A.J, we the type to turn round and take it! Legally, of course. Cos we’re not thieves and we absolutely didn’t steal it. You can even eat the groom’s head!”

She picks the groom off the top of the cake and bites down but coughs and immediately spits his head back out like a cat with a fur-ball.

LAYTON: ”No you can’t, it’s plastic. Ignore me. But you get my point.”

MORALES: “And just like we take these cakes, when one of us sees something in the ring we want, we go get it. That’s how this charming Irish lass right here’s a 2-time world champion, that’s how, by the end of this month, I’m gonna have a world title in my hands and my Seattle Pro Pride title back—”

The live crowd cheers, and a fair portion start chanting “S-P-W! S-P-W!”—along with a few contrarians who start chanting for King’s Road instead—loud enough for A.J. to hear it all the way from backstage and crack a smile at it.

MORALES: “I knew there was gonna be some crossover! But tonight, what all that means, more than anything, is that the two of us are gonna head out to that ring for back-to-back matches against icons of this company, and we’re gonna come back from there with back-to-back victories. Then we’re gonna go do some stuff I don’t think Showtime would allow on the air, but that’s a whole different story.”

Coming back into frame, now with a chunk of cake in her hand, Em steps forward.

LAYTON: ”And me? Well lemme tell ya- this ain’t been my best year. Started off as Supreme XWA Champion, lost that title in my fourth defense, then got stalked and had my Trench War title taken off me after 404 days. Then got a concussion. But you might think things we do outside of these Four Corners ain’t matter, but howdya like me NOW?”

Em opens her jacket to show the Union Battleground Championship, around her waist, glistening in the lights.

LAYTON: ”See this? You might look at this and be all like ‘oh, thats just a title for another world’ but y’know what this is? This is proof that the bad times don’t last and this dirty, no-good pavee’s back on the up, no matter what the ring, no matter the name of the place or the acronym! Genevie Carlson just came back, and she’s gonna wanna show the same thing going into Bad Company, gonna wanna show the world that Eli and Genie are a force to be reckoned with, alone or together. But girl, this ain’t that match, and I ain’t that person for you, girl. After the way you talked last week, after the way you threw my challenge back at me, you’re gonna wanna practice your losing face, I tell ya now.”

Now it’s A.J.’s turn to take center stage, drawing the camera’s focus as he looks intently down the lens, while Emery steps back and eats the handful of cake.

MORALES: ”And then there’s my thing…look, if I said this match isn’t gonna be one of the most difficult matches of my life, maybe even the most difficult, I’d either be lying or suicidal. I knew from the second I decided I was gonna come here and challenge Bronx Valescence that I was signing myself up for the single biggest challenge that I could possibly face in 4CW. But that’s exactly why I did it. Because he is the biggest challenge, because he is the ace of this company, because I can go around calling myself the Rawest Wrestler Alive as much as I want, but if I don’t seek out opponents of Bronx’s caliber and test myself against them, that name won’t mean jack shit. So when I walk down that ramp tonight and I step between those four corners, there’s gonna be no gimmicks, no shortcuts, no special stipulations. It’s just gonna be me against the mountain. And by the time that final bell rings, the world’s gonna know exactly how high I can climb.”

For a moment, there’s a nice comfortable pause. The audience cheers, chants break out in various parts of the arena for all four people involved in the headliners, and A.J. and Emery both soak it all in from where they are. Then A.J. suddenly snaps to attention at something.

MORALES: ”Hey, wait, we gotta get the cake we absolutely didn’t steal stashed away, huh?”

LAYTON: ”Right, we should get back on that…see you lot in a bit!”

MORALES: ¡Hasta luego, mi gente! Swear to God, there better be someplace to put this…”

And so, the two guest stars lift the cake together and walk off, giving the people off in the production truck a convenient excuse to fade out.

It’s been quite some time since Andre had his tag team match and it’s time to go home and prepare for battle for another day. Walking down the hallway dragging his luggage seemed longer than he thought in his mind especially with Bad Company almost around the corner. His recent time on Adrenaline has been doing fairly well since he’s been scoring more victories and building momentum for the future. What bothered him more was the mixed reactions he’s received from all around him now that he has become a dog and who is the one to question him about this?

HARTMAN: ”Andre, could you talk for a second?”

Hartman always knew to interrupt at either the best or worst possible times. Andre removed the shades from his eyes and let it hang from the collar of his blank blue t-shirt. He rolled his hazel eyes and Hartman spoke into the microphone.

HARTMAN: ”So everyone’s been wondering why you joined the Dogs of War but more importantly, how has it been being in the group?”

Andre sighed then shook his head.

HOLMES: ”Listen. I don’t care how others think of me joining Dogs of War. I already did it and it’s in the past. The group have welcomed me with open arms and now I’m going to repay them by teaming up with Mark Storm and winning Bad Company. Bringing the 4CW Tag Team Championships to the fold and also a million dollars.”

HOLMES: ”So I understand that nobody saw it coming and some people may take it as a joke. Hell, a personal friend of mine needed to have a talk with me and even my own family were iffy about it. I know what is best for my career and in times like these, you need friends. Loyal friends that can back you up and not ones that form for the benefit of getting more likes on social media. So if you excuse me, I have to leave. Bye!”

He shoved Hartman out of the way and kept walking down the hallway. The camera fades to black with the view of Holmes leaving the arena.

UNDERCARD
MARIANO FERNANDEZ VS. JAIR HOPKINS

You wanted a classic? You’re about to get a classic. Two former 4CW champions are about to square off in the middle of the ring in the Emerald City tonight. We’re talking Fernandez versus Hopkins, Da Troll Guy versus Da Hall of Famer. Before the match began there was a quick nod from each man acknowledging this fact to the other, a show of respect between two mainstay members of the roster. No punches were exchanged, just a good old fashioned collar and elbow tie up between the two, pushing for position it is Fernandez who is able to switch the tie up into a side headlock. Hopkins, wisely, slings Fernandez off of the ropes and connects with a running headscissors takedown onto Manny, mang! Manny gets right back up but is met with a another couple of armdrags causing Manny to retreat up against the corner turnbuckle holding his arm, but of Hopkins only used that to connect with a running splash into the corner!! Hopkins allowed Manny to stumble out of the corner and goes for a German suplex, but somehow Da Troll Guy is able to flip over and land on his feet, as Hopkins spins Manny connects with a flying forearm stunning Jair. Manny follows that up with a couple of armdrags of his own for good measure which gets Hopkins backed up onto the ropes and allows Manny to connect with a rolling Koppu kick sending Hopkins onto the ring apron on the outside of the ring. Manny gets right up and charges towards the adjacent ring ropes springboarding into the air and connecting with a dropkick to Jair sending him falling off of the ring apron and to the floor below. Manny moves to the ring apron himself not missing a beat in his momentum, and just as the Hall of Famer gets up on the outside Manny connects with an impressive Asai moonsault!

Hopkins is eventually rolled back into the ring by Manny, who instead of going for the pin on the inside heads to the top ropes which brings the crowd to their feet in anticipation. Manny leaps from the top ropes, but only meets the business of both of Jair Hopkins’ boots!! Manny crumbles to the mat, which gives Hopkins a chance to get a second wind. Manny gets up and swoops back his amazing soccer mom hair just in time to catch a flying calf kick from Hopkins. Hopkins goes on the offensive with a couple of shots that back Manny up against the ropes, and sends Manny across with a head full of steam on the rebound Hopkins charges in and connects with a running crossbody block getting the first attempt at a pin in this match, however Manny is able to power out at two! Hopkins gets right back up to his feet and leaps high into the air connecting with a jumping elbow drop, this allows Hopkins to lock in a Fujiwara armbar allowing for him to catch his breath while doing damage to his opponent’s arm. Manny is able to fight his way to the ropes in a couple of seconds and forces Hopkins to break the hold, but Manny is holding that arm in some pain as it was the same one Hopkins dragged around at the start of the match. Manny and Jair get back up at about the same moment, Manny spins for a discuss punch, but Jair ducks under countering with a backslide getting the second attempt at a pin. Manny is able to break out from that at two, and as Jair charges in for a clothesline allows for Manny to hit the Pelé kick right to Hopkins’ jaw! This stuns him long enough for Manny to leap up and hit with a vicious looking swinging DDT! Manny hooks the arms of Hopkins for a pin attempt, but Jair is able to kick out at two and a half! The Seattle crowd really starts getting into this one as the two former champions continue to go at it. Manny pulls Jair back up to his feet and doubles him over placing Hopkins into a standing headscissors, Manny goes to lift Hopkins up into the air looking for a piledriver, but Hopkins is able to put on the breaks and prevent his head from getting crushed. Hopkins instead counters by lifting Manny up into the air and connecting with a backdrop drivaaaaaaaah!! Hopkins leaps up to his feet as Many rolls back to his own, and is able to connect with a swinging neckbreaker onto Da Troll Guy!

Hopkins points to the corner turnbuckle which gets the crowd excited as he begins to climb with his back to his opponent which can only mean one thing. Hopkins goes for his moonsault double footstomp, but Manny is able to roll out of the way and Hopkins crumbles to his knees from the impact. Manny is able to get back up to his feet and he connects with the Gadfly, which is a step-up enzuigiri, and Manny hooks the legs going for the pin but Hopkins is able to kick out at two and a half!! Manny doesn’t seem to let the frustration of not being able to keep Hopkins shoulders to the mat get to him, but instead heads to the outside of the ring. He grabs the top ropes waiting for the Hall of Famer to get back up to his feet, the crowd also knows what exactly Manny is going to go for here as well and Manny yells out “FOR THE EMPEROR!” Manny leaps up onto the top ropes on the outside and flies through the air looking to connect with the Warhammer, but is caught with a double dropkick to the midsection by Jair Hopkins!! Hopkins scoops up Manny by his soccer mom hair and lifts up Manny Fernandez and connects with the Bread n’ Butter. This gives Hopkins the chance to climb the ropes once again, leaping backwards and connecting with OMFG!! The crowd roars as Hopkins hooks the leg of Manny…

ONE

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TWO

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THREE!!!

WINNER: Jair Hopkins via Pinfall (12:45)

Switching backstage, Eli Carlson is seen laying on top of one of the equipment boxes used to transport who knows what. Given the combination of people running the show in 4CW these days it was probably some combination of dildo’s with KPOP faces on them, pictures of Antonio Brown with a toothpick sized hole poked in its mouth (perfect for Perry), and…. Well who really knew what Boston liked these days besides putting himself in the line of fire of a crazed clown on steroids.

With all the madness that was going on around the company all the time it was no wonder that Eli might have wanted to take a nap and get some peace and quiet. Somehow, however, he sensed the camera crew approaching and grumbled unhappily at him.

E. CARLSON: ”Go away.”

Awkward silence fell over the scene for a moment before the cameraman cleared his throat.

E. CARLSON: ”I swear to god if you aren’t here to tell me that my wife is pregnant, or that she wants me to come back to our locker room so she can suck my dick, you need to go away right now.”

The sound of a throat being cleared cuts through the silence once more and an exasperated Eli throws his arm off of his face, having used to to cover his eyes, before he sat up and grumbled.

E. CARLSON: ”Shit wasn’t like this when I was 4CW Champ-… oh hey babe.”

Finally opening his eyes he made eye contact with none other than Genie Carlson, offering her a sheepish smile.

E. CARLSON: ”What’s up?”

G. CARLSON: ”I’m not here to tell you I’m pregnant or that I’m going to suck your dick. We’ve got bigger things to do tonight. I brought some Irish twit here to drag all over the ring and you have Make a Wish kid Raab.”

Genevie rolled her eyes but she wrapped an arm around Eli’s shoulders and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

G. CARLSON: ”But I promise you once we are done with that? We can see about all that other stuff.”

Sighing, he pushed off the container and landed firmly on his feet.

E. CARLSON: ”Ugh. Fine. You really know how to break a guys heart you know that.”

Shrugging off the disappointment, Eli grabbed Genie by the hand and began leading her down the hallway toward their locker room.

E. CARLSON: ”You know what would be really nice right now? If we had our own trailer. That would be the best. Or a bus. Oh man a bus would be awesome. Can we get a bus? No wait. Nevermind. Cashe did that. I don’t want a bus anymore.”

With his free hand he scratched at the hair on his chin gently.

E. CARLSON: ”What about an RV. That’s kind of like a bus except… not retarded.”

Genevie shook her head and a look of disgust on her face as she just stared at Eli.

G. CARLSON: ”Old retired people get RVs Elijah. We’re barely in our mid-twenties. A tour bus would be more appropriate for us, but we don’t travel all that much. Just here to 4CW events. Together. Again.”

She smiled and placed her head on his shoulder. Squeezing his arm.

G. CARLSON: ”I just want to know why you think we need an RV all of a sudden. Sometimes I wonder if I should leave you alone with your own thoughts.”

E. CARLSON: ”I was just thinking it could be fun, you know? But I guess we don’t really need it.”

He shrugged quickly and got quiet but before she could prod him for what was really going through his mind he spoke up again.

E. CARLSON: ”Oh well. We can figure all of that out later. You need to take care of other Kaelan. And I’ve gotta deal with Raab. And then get the fuck out of this god forsaken place. I’m telling you I think shit has gotten worse since that Jimmy guy left. I’m not even sure Perry uses a dart board to make decisions any longer. But at least he and Kaysie aren’t occupying the first two hours of the show anymore. And the ratings are thankful for that.”

G. CARLSON: ”I’ll admit this place has changed a lot but all we gotta show everyone is we can adapt to anything and anyone who steps in the ring against us. We are going to fucking run this place… again.”

Nodding his head in agreement, Eli responded.

E. CARLSON: ”Yeah. Just one step at a time.”

And as they walked off the rest of the way down the corridor, the scene faded to ringside where Eli was up next.

UNDERCARD
LORD RAAB VS. ELIJAH CARLSON

The cameras cut back to ringside, looking out over the front row crowd where a line of gingerbread cookies dressed like Eli are held high above the fans heads. We only get a short glimpse of the little delights before the camera cuts to the action in the ring where the match has already kicked off. Eli has Raab on his toes, hitting him with left and right jabs, backing him into the corner. As he notices Raab’s back touch the corner, Eli takes a huge swing for his head, throwing all of his weight behind it. Ducking underneath it, Raab steps behind Eli as his arm goes over the top rope and his chest presses against the corner. Before Eli even has a chance to turn around, Raab hits him with a haymaker to the back of the head and wraps him up. Lifting Eli off his feet, Raab goes for a German suplex but can’t execute as Eli locks onto the top ropes of the corner with both hands, keeping himself down. Raab goes to lift him again, but the result doesn’t change. Raab then slams his head forward, hitting Eli directly in the back of the head with a heabutt before giving it a third try. This time there’s nothing to keep Eli grounded as Raab rips him away from the corner and slams him to the mat with a German suplex. Fluidly, Raab pushes himself through Eli’s spread legs, mounting himself on top of Eli and raining down onto his head with rapid rights.

Standing to his feet, Raab then jumps into the air before coming down with an elbow drop to Eli’s forehead. Back on his feet, Raab pulls Eli up to his where he then realigns his jaw with a vicious European uppercut. Pulling Eli’s head down and between his legs, Raab wraps him up around the waist before attempting to lift him upside down for a piledriver. Eli quickly locks his leg with Raab, keeping himself ground. Wrapping his arms around Raab’s legs, Eli then powers down, lifting Raab off his feet as he begins to stand straight up, eventually throwing Raab over his head. Raab quickly pushes himself up to his feet but before he can even turn to face his opponent, Eli ducks down and throws his body forward, hitting Raab in the back of the knee with a chop block and knocking him off of his feet. Eli pops up to his feet and begins stomping down on Raab’s legs for a few moments before hopping over his body and darting straight for the ropes. Coming back on the rebound, Eli flips through the air, landing across Raab’s body with a running senton. Rolling to his feet in a fluid motion, Eli continues his stride and heads for the ropes ahead of him. Hitting them even harder than before, he bounces off and races across the ring before leaping through the air and coming down onto Raab’s chest with a double foot stomp!

Pulling Raab up from the mat, Eli positions himself beside Raab as he wraps him up and then takes him back to the mat with a Russian leg sweep. Rolling over and mounting himself on top of Raab, Eli begins driving multiple stiff right hands into Raab’s face. Over and over Eli pounds away at Raab’s face before finally drawing blood from the corner of his eye. Satisfied with his handwork, Eli stands to his feet and circles Raab for a short moment before moving in and pulling him back to his feet. Wrapping an arm around his head, Eli then lifts him upside down into the air before dropping him back to the mat with a brainbuster! Rolling over Raab’s body, Eli makes the cover as the official drops in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Popping a shoulder up from the mat, Raab breaks the officials count before the two. Not wasting anytime to argue with the official, Eli stands to his feet and immediately pulls Raab up to his as well. Locked onto Raab’s wrist, Eli goes to throw Raab to the ropes but before Eli can release him, Raab reverses the throw and sends Eli to the ropes instead. Readying himself for Eli’s return, Raab positions himself in the middle of the ring and as Eli gets within arms reach, Raab lifts him off his feet and plants him to the mat with a spinning spinebuster! On top of Eli, Raab grabs ahold of his head with both hands before lifting it up and holding it in place. Slamming his head down over and over, Raab hits Eli with multiple headbutts right between the eyes, knocking him into a daze. Standing to his feet, Raab lifts Eli up and then lifts him into the air before dropping him on his head with a scoop slam piledriver! Wrapping his hand around Eli’s throat, Raab climbs back to his feet while lifting Eli up from the mat. Finally standing, Raab then lifts Eli into the air before throwing him down to his back with The Chokinator (chokeslam)! Dropping to his knees, Raab covers Eli as the official races from across the ring with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

Raab can’t believe his eyes as Eli kicks out with the officials hand just inches away from slapping the mat a third time. He quickly gives Eli two back to back elbows to the side of the head for good measure before pushing himself to his feet. Before in this situation we would see Raab’s frustration get the best of him but he remains calm. He pulls Eli to his feet, grabbing him with both hands before lifting him up and dropping him across his knee with a backbreaker. Raab doesn’t release Eli, he stands back to both feet while positioning Eli on his. Bending Eli over, Raab locks both of his arms with Eli’s in a double underhook. Lifting Eli upside down into the air as high as he can, The Killibuster was sure to follow. But it didn’t! Oh no! Raab’s hands slip apart as Eli is at his highest point, allowing Eli to continue his forward flipping motion into the air. Eli drops to his feet behind Raab. Their backs are to one another and as Eli’s feet his the mat, he charges forward to the ropes ahead. Bouncing off and coming back across the ring, Eli runs straight for Raab as he slowly turns around to face him. Jumping into the air and aiming one leg forward, Eli plants his foot into Raab’s face with his Red Light Special (running single leg dropkick)! Raab drops to the mat instantly as the crowd goes silent. On his back, Eli rolls over and hooks a leg to pin Raab.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

WINNER: Elijah Carlson via Pinfall (10:39)

UNDERCARD
ERIC DONAVAN VS. VIDUUS MORTA

Considered one of the scariest in the Corners Four, with the other being Bryan Laughlin, Viduus stalks his opponent like a prey with many ideas in mind to torture his opponent if the match ends up dragging on too long. Viduus smiles that creepy smile of his as his eyes light up in excitement that has Eric feeling a bit uncomfortable but it doesnt fully throw him off his game as he charges him. Viduus had been dominating the first half of the match and Eric was showing in the way he shoulder blocked him like a crazed man on the battlefield that it was his time to get his in. He doesnt hold back on the right and left hooks, feeding Viduus like a starved baby from the bottle with how much his fists land on Viduus’ face. Eric feels the adrenaline take control of his body and he’s graduated from punching to laying down Viduus with a variety of suplexes. Eric wont even allow Viduus to get fully onto his feet without putting him back down, acting rash because he knows how dangerous his opponent can be and is not allowing a chance in which the tables can just as quickly be turned onto him. He moves with precision, with carefulness and a great amount of rapidness to stay on his toes and remain alert through and through.

Viduus seems to be going down with ease, a great surprise to the audience and even Eric but Eric just chalks it up to sheer luck and continues doing what he’s doing without delay, getting a snap powerslam in and then going for a swinging neckbreaker next, just anything to not fall into a pattern where Viduus could just as easily catch on and find an opportunity to ruin it. Eric is feeling as if he’s on top of the world, this match was close to being over in his eyes but unfortunately for him, he doesnt realize that Viduus is just toying with him. Viduus is allowing Eric to get these shots and slams in without putting up match of a fight because he finds it rather entertaining. Its not until after Eric attempts a spinebuster that Viduus decides that he’s grown tired of playing these games and counters the move. Eric charges him afterwards and Viduus hits him so hard that you’d think that Eric’s teeth rattled. Eric wasnt no punching bag though as he fought back while Viduus remained in control of the match and moved quickly so that Eric’s punches caught nothing but air. Eric had to go for an European Uppercut to catch Viduus off guard and followed up with a snap DDT to get Viduus off his feet temporarily while Eric mentally regrouped. But it didnt matter what Eric did, he couldnt wipe that creepy smile off Viduus face that seemed glued on just like his in tact face paint.

But that wasnt going to make Eric lose focus as he went at Viduus like a man fighting for his life in a Coliseum because one thing you couldnt say about Eric is that he didnt have heart. He had a zealous attitude and seemed to ooze of passion when it came to this sport, putting all of his efforts into anything that he does like a perfectionist trying to get that living room portrait to stay straight on the wall. Eric was getting in hits that Viduus wasnt allowing purposely this time and being quick on his feet to move out of the way once Viduus came at him with a powerful clothesline as Eric stuck to punching for the moment because he was worried that if he tried to go for a suplex, Viduus may counter in a way where Viduus’ next move may be the one that ends the match. He wasnt really afraid but he definitely was more alert than he had been in his last match because he knew before him stood a tricky one who could make it lights out for him into unconsciousness if Viduus had his way. Eric hears a growl that has him looking around for a ravenous animal, not realizing its Viduus making the sound as his eyes narrow down at Eric. He had been having fun at first but now he was becoming rather irritated. And boy did it show when Viduus grabbed a hold of Eric and had him hitting the mat back to back with so many different backbreakers that the fans were surprised that Dan Forden didnt pop out and yell ‘Toasty!’ in a high falsetto like he was accustomed to doing when an uppercut was performed back in classic Mortal Kombat days. Viduus stops moving as he watches Eric rise and moves in for the Awakening for that final move before covering for the three count, the bell ringing to end the match.

WINNER: Viduus Morta via Pinfall (7:57)

We open backstage with Cosmo Cooper. He seems a little worse for wear after the backstage brawl with Omertà which was bound to happen because of the way he was running his mouth with Jeb. A few doctors are checking on him as he rolls his eyes.

COOPER: “I’m fine.”

They eventually leave him alone, but Cosmo stays on the equipment box where we usually find him as he brings his 4CW tag title over into his lap where he looks down at it with both of his hands cupped underneath.

COOPER: “I hope I’m never like them, yanno? I hope I’m never the guy who has been here for a long time, had a minute of success and then claim that I revolutionized the business. Hell, let’s be honest here? I’ve been here consecutive more weeks as champion than when Dakota had the fucking 4CW Championship. And Riddle? Don’t make me fucking laugh. Dude wants to be a legend and is nearly .500 in the company. Cut it out. These two bitch boys are good at doing one thing? Jerking themselves off with the sweat that is caused by thinking of ways they can be good and relevant even though it never works.”

Cosmo tossed his sweaty mane over his one side of his head.

COOPER: “What you saw backstage? That’s what they’re good at. Between what happens in the ring. Because when the bell rings? They get picked apart. Every. Single. Time. And sometimes they disappear. Sometimes they’re here. They seem to just come and go as they please but honestly? I don’t give a fuck. People respect me more than they do Cy Riddle. People respect me more than they respect Dakota Smith. I will be the ATHLETE that this company needs going forward. I will be the GUY this company will need when all these edge lords finally off themselves like we’re all rooting for them to do… but the goal this week is no different from the goal last week.”

Cooper stood up and held up the 4CW tag title.

COOPER: “Bad Company is coming, and we’re running the gauntlet before it even begins. Last week, the Carlsons. This week Omertà and whoever wants to nut up and go next week. We’ll be standing here waiting for you. And I promise it will end just like the rest of them have ended, you’re going to know you’ve been in a FIGHT when it’s over. We didn’t call every team out for nothing. We called them out because we knew we were the best. We got something to prove. And we won’t back down until we prove it. Omerta? You better hope you knock us the fuck out, because if not? We’re just going to keep coming. Enjoy it boys, because with every match your star dims… and when two of the young guns stand over you holding these tag belts?”

He laughed.

COOPER: “Maybe you’ll finally get the fucking message that you aren’t cut out for it.”

We don’t have to wait long for “Starboy” to kick on the PA system and none other than Bronx Valescence makes his way out of the curtains, still with his street clothes on. He looks around and smiles and points at some of the signs he notices in the crowd. One of them include:

MOLLY REID IS
A PISS BABY

As he slaps hands with the fans on his way down he walks up the steps and wipes his feet on the apron before he steps into the ring with his arms out. He takes a microphone and hits it a few times to make sure it’s on before he begins to speak.

VALESCENCE: “I needed a break. Plain and simple…”

The fans applaud as Bronx looks up to them with a nod.

VALESCENCE: “I’m not afraid to admit that. Over a year I was on top of this company. Over a year I was in the main event picture night in and night out. Over a YEAR I stood at the top of this mountain. Sometimes it was with the 4CW Championship and sometimes it wasn’t. Sometimes I was chasing, someone I was the one being chased. I’ve seen a lot of men do the same thing I’ve done, except they don’t come back. Or they take a year off and come back. Or they take six months off and come back. They magically come up with injuries and then show up on some other show where the competition isn’t as good and claim to be the best.”

He chuckled.

VALESCENCE: “That’s not me. I will never do it. I will never leave 4CW and go to another company. I will fight here until my legs fall off. Until I can’t lift my arms. Until I literally fall apart I will be in this ring fighting!”

Bronx is fired up as the crowd pops again.

VALESCENCE: “And tonight I fight an outsider. Tonight I step into the ring with A.J Morales. A.J who had the audacity to bring up shit I said on Twitter to use it against me. Son, do you realize the insane shit I’ve said on Twitter?”

The crowd laughs, so does Bronx.

VALESCENCE: “I’ve talked about kissing dudes. I’ve talked about drinking piss. I’ve talked about Kevin Ward JR! May he rest in peace. God bless your soul A.J if you think because I said you’d be a potential match for me means it’s okay for you to waltz in here and call me out. God bless you if you think it makes it okay. Because you’re in for a rude awakening and you’re going to learn just what everyone else has learned when they step into the ring with me. What you see on social media isn’t what you get when you look into my eyes standing across the ring for me. You’re going to get that lesson the hard way.”

Bronx nodded as he cleared his throat.

VALESCENCE: “As for my intentions? As long as my best friend, my stablemate, Ana Hayden is holding that top belt? I’m not going after it.”

There’s a mixed reaction.

VALESCENCE: “One day I will become 4CW Champion again. One day…until then? My focus is on one thing… dethroning the tag champions.”

He pointed to the video board.

VALESCENCE: “And as you can see from the 30 year old still in his frat mindset man child that you just saw up there. I don’t think it’s going to be that difficult. For a long time I pushed away the thoughts of standing side by side with someone in 4CW. I wanted to do it myself. But the fact of the matter is? Ana Hayden is the best going. I’ll try to match her step for step for Bad Company, if that happens? We bring home the titles. And the rest of you? Just keep reaching for the scraps. A.J Morales, this isn’t a warm up for Bad Company. It’s personal. Let’s see how good you are.”

Bronx held up the microphone as his music hit. He headed back up the ramp slapping hands as he went.

The camera cuts away from the ring where we find Perry Wallace walking by himself through the halls of the KeyArena backstage area. Walking past a door that has his name on a temporary plate attached to itr, he stops in his tracks as he notices the door slightly cracked. Taking a step back, he peaks through the cracked opening but doesn’t see anything on the other side. Taking a deep breath, he turns his body to face the door. Kicking his leg up, he slams his foot against the door, causing it to swing open. As the door swings open, an voice shouts from within the office.

TOMMY: “What the hell!”

Seeing who is inside of the office, Perry lowers his guard before entering the office. His head shakes from left to right, over and over before stopping in front of his desk. The camera can’t see who is on the other side as Perry’s body blocks the view, but whoever it is he doesn’t seem pleased that they’re in his office unattended.

WALLACE: “That’s what I should be asking you. What the hell are you doing in my office, Feets?”

The camera moves just enough to see who sits behind the desk and it is in fact American Tommy.

TOMMY: “This isn’t your office, you cuck! You don’t own this building!”

Placing his hands on his hips, you can tell Perry is beginning to become frustrated and the two haven’t been in each other’s company for long. He turns around and points at the door which is still open, making the name plate attached to it visible.

WALLACE: “You see that right there? That’s my name. Not Feets, not Thomas Cortez, and sure as shit not American Tommy. I may not own the building but I own this space right here for the evening!”

Turning back to Tommy, Perry points to him before waving for him to get up from the chair behind the desk.

WALLACE: “Smokes, let’s go.”

TOMMY: “What?”

WALLACE: “Nothing. Just get up out of my seat, please.”

Tommy doesn’t get up at first, but Perry continues looking straight at him, the anger in his eyes growing by the second. Shrugging his shoulders, Tommy stands to his feet but not before swinging his arm across the top of the desk and knocking over various items. With Tommy walking around to the front of the desk, Perry goes the opposite direction and sits in his chair for the night behind the desk.

WALLACE: “So, what can I do for you, Tommy?”

Just as soon as Tommy goes to reply, Perry holds his hand up, stopping him before he even speaks a single word.

WALLACE: “Wait, wait, wait, wait… Tommy.”

TOMMY: “Yeah?”

WALLACE: “Where the fuck is the Octane Championship? I’ve heard rumors that you lost it and I tried giving you the benefit of the doubt. I told myself that you were a proud champion and would never, ever, lose a 4CW Championship. Now seeing you without makes my second guess myself and I don’t like that. Now, where the hell is it?”

TOMMY: “I have no idea what you are talking about. It’s around my waist.”

Tommy points to his waist where a cardboard box cut out title sits above his hips. It’s literally just a piece of cardboard that is cut into the shape of a title. Tommy sits down with a smile on his face searching through the candy dish that sits on Perry’s desk as Perry just looks at him deadpanned.

WALLACE: “Let me see that.”

Tommy takes it off and hands it over to Perry Wallace as he studies.

WALLACE: “It doesn’t even say Octane on it!”

TOMMY: “The fuck it don’t!”

Perry holds the Octane title so Tommy can see it.

WALLACE: “Octane doesn’t have a K in it, Feets!”

The camera zooms in and reveals that Octane is spelled Oktane.

TOMMY: “Let me see that.”

Tommy leans towards the desk to grab the title, but before he does slaps Perry across the face. Not all that hard. Honestly, it should have been a lot fucking harder. This man has the world making fun of him for a fetish that he doesn’t even have! Anyways, Perry grabs his face as Tommy grabs the title and puts it around his waist.

TOMMY: “What the fuck do you know! You are probably one of those dyslexics.”

A loud yell is heard from outside Perry’s door and as Perry is distracted Tommy grabs a marker off the desk and crosses out Oktane and writes Octane on the belt. He puts the marker back on the desk before Perry realizes it and looks at him. He holds up the belt so Wallace can see it.

TOMMY: “What the fuck you talking about, Zion. It says Octane!”

Wallace looks at the belt and shakes his head.

WALLACE: “YOU LITERALLY JUST CROSSED OUT OKTANE AND WROTE OCTANE YOU FUCK!”

Tommy brushes Wallace off and rolls his eyes.

TOMMY: “I wouldn’t do something like that.”

Walking to the other side of the office, Perry just shakes his head as a soft laughter is heard coming from his direction. He stands in place for a moment with his back turned to Tommy as he thinks to himself. Finally turning around, Perry rubs his hands together as he shoots his attention across the room in Tommy’s direction.

WALLACE: “I wanted to ignore the rumors and believe that you would have more pride in yourself and being a champion. I really, really wanted to! Yet here we are and there you have a cardboard belt around your waist. Jesus fucking Christ, Thomas! What were you thinking? Did you honestly think no one would notice the cardboard cut out you’;re trying to pawn off as the Octane Championship like Travis Blake pretending that no one would notice him having a sex change, and then a reversal in just a matter of weeks?! You’re killing me!”

Perry looks at the title once more, this time taking a few steps forward to get an even closer view. His eyes focus on a corner of the work of art before he leans in to read the print on the box.

WALLACE: “It even has an expiration date stamped on it!”

Tommy attempts to speak up for himself but is quickly cut off before he can even speak as Perry throws his hand up in Tommy’s face.

WALLACE: “No. Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare even try to explain that! It’s fitting though. Just like the original contents of that box you used, it appears your reign as champion has an expiration date as well! Luckily for you, you’ll be busy in two weeks with Bad Company and being the nice guy that I am, I’m not going to book you for a title defense in the mix. I am however going to promise you that at the Adrenaline following Bad Company, you WILL defend the championship. You will bring that pathetic piece of cardboard to the ring for the officials to properly dispose of because I’m going to have a new belt made, that a real champion would be proud to carry! It isn’t like I have much of a choice considering you probably traded it after giving a miserable happy ending to a foot rub, you sick son of a bitch!”

TOMMY: “Listen, let’s be serious here. I was walking down Lake Shore Dr after a long session at a pub in Chicago when I saw a food truck. This mother fucking food truck had anything and everything that a man could ever want and need. I ordered a chicken burrito with rice, beans and queso when my eyes continued to scan the menu and I saw my one true love. Cheese fries.”

WALLACE: “Cheese fries, eh? Not Kimitsu?”

Tommy looks at Wallace who is smiling and shakes his head. Fucking Cuck.

TOMMY: “Shut up and listen.”

Tommy drinks whatever is in the glass on Wallace’s desk and throws it over his shoulder before continuing. Wallace begins to reach over his desk, but he doesn’t. He leans back in his chair and puts up his feet. It’s story fucking time, boys.

TOMMY: “Anyways, my mouth started to water and to be honest I drooled a bit. I ordered those fuckin fries and extra cheese on them. The food arrived and he told me my bill was 15.69. Well, I didn’t have 15.69, because 4CW don’t fucking pay me! I had 11.24 on me and a stick a spearmint gum. He said, 15.69. I said, 69? Nice. I then put my money up on to the guy and he wasn’t having it. So then I took off my pants and tried to give them to him to cover the rest.”

WALLACE: “Boxers or Briefs?”

Tommy shoots Wallace a look of WTF.

TOMMY: “Why does it matter? You need it for your spankbank?”

WALLACE: “Trying to picture the story!”

They both kinda nod at each other because this was a perfectly acceptable answer.

TOMMY: “Boxer-Briefs. No self respecting man over the age of 16 wears anything but that. Anyways, he saw my title and said I’ll take that. I was like cool, I’ll come back and get it tomorrow and have the rest your money to get it. Well, I never saw that truck again, but those cheese fries were fucking tits. Look, this is a common occurrence. I’m sure a lot of champions have their titles stolen by a food truck at 4:30 in the morning.”

Wallace raises his hand to stop Tommy and for once he actually listens.

WALLACE: “Hold up. Hold up. Hold up. So, let me get this straight. You traded the Octane title for cheese fries?”

Tommy shrugs and he a bit of a smirk on his face.

TOMMY: “Not on purpose! But essentially, yah. I did you a fucking favor. This belt I have on now looks 100 times better than what some fat monkey designed before. As for defending? If you want the title off me so bad you better put me against somebody worth my time or I’ll wipe the fucking floor with them. Keep disrespecting me and I’ll continue to prove I’m one of the best on this roster. I’ll be fucking ready and I hope the same can be said for them.”

Nodding at Tommy’s statement, Perry appears somewhat pleased, other than the fact that his champion lost the goddamn belt. Speaking of belts, Perry looks to the cardboard championship one more before his nodding turns to shaking once more.

WALLACE: “I’m just trying to motivate you to be a better person, a better champion, and maybe having some goddamn respect. You’re a champion, Tommy. It’s about time you start acting like one. Now if you’ll excuse me, you can get the fuck out of my office, Feets! Thanks and have a blessed day.”

Tommy nods stands up outta his chair. He looks at Perry’s desk and see’s the candy dish that is always sitting in the corner. Tommy points at it and looks at Perry.

TOMMY: “Can I?”

Perry looks up and sees Tommy pointing at the candy dish and he nods his head before looking back down at his phone. Tommy picks up the dish and takes one out and shrugs. He takes a few more before tossing the dish to the side of him, scattering the bowl and it’s contents to the floor.

TOMMY: “Thanks!”

Perry’s eyes light up at the sight as his face begins turning shades of red from his anger boiling. Tommy doesn’t even look back and walks out the door with the best designed 4CW belt 4CW has ever seen around his waist. Even if it is cardboard.

WALLACE: “Making a goddamn championship with a fucking foot on it!”

UNDERCARD
IGNITION CHAMPIONSHIP
TRIPLE THREAT MATCH

JAY MORA VS. MAGDALENA LOCKHEART
VS. DEMARCUS GRESHAM ©

This match was nothing short of exciting as the three combatants put on as if they were going for match of the night. The audience seemed to want Jay to walk out as Ignition Champion and for once, even Vassa was agreeing with the fans as he and Johnson watched intently as all three stars moved around the ring and tried to keep the other down. Magdalena was working it as she had found Jay’s blind spot and was trying to do him in, in a pg way of course, while Demarcus was picking himself up from the mat after Magdalena had attacked him from behind, blind siding him before she went for Jay. Magdalena was fired up tonight and showed that just because she was the only female in this match didnt mean that she also didnt pack quite a punch. Unfortunately for Magdalena, a sober Jay was much more of a force to reckon with instead of a sloppy drunk Jay and he wasted no time picking up Magdalena and laying her out with a spinebuster. But he couldnt catch a break because as soon as he turned around, there was Demarcus to greet him with a few jabs and then a punch to the face.

Demarcus shows that you can never count him out and that it didnt matter that you didnt understand the big words he liked to boast on social media, he was no joke inside of the squared ring. He also had been well acquainted with the Ignition Championship for a while to the point where he refused to have it leave his possession. He went toe to toe with Jay, matching each blow as he returned the same power that Jay was aiming at him as they found themselves in the midst of a back and forth brawl. You’d think that someone as uppity as Demarcus had no time to be engaged in any fisticuffs such as this but wrestling was wrestling and if he had to occasionally trade punches for a while with an opponent, then he’ll just make sure he would end up the stronger of the two with the more powerful punches. Jay had him for a moment until Demarcus had to show him who was stronger and begin adding more power behind those punches to the point Jay was forced to take a step back without returning a punch and Demarcus quickly steps forward to deliver another punch, making his move swiftly with a fisherman neckbreaker to put Jay down. Not forgetting his other opponent of the night, Demarcus quickly looks around for the sneaky Magdalena and is relieved to see that she is nowhere near ready to strike but she is on her feet still trying to recuperate from Jay’s spinebuster.

Jay begins to rise and Demarcus notices, deciding to go for Magdalena first as he starts towards her but is surprised with a quick kick to the midsection to halt him for a second until Magdalena was able to get her breathing back to normal and goes for a facebuster before Demarcus can even think about swinging. Jay has already inched near enough to grab Magdalena after she’s back on her feet from putting Demarcus down and Magdalena quickly begins fighting back with not wanting to be on the end of another one of Jay’s slams. Jay is amused but he’s concentrated, which makes him alot more scarier than usual because opponents usually felt comforted in the fact that they could easily be Jay when he was in his drunken state and could barely stand but they were getting the real Jay now so they better be able to take it. Demarcus barrels into both Magdalena and Jay to take them down while Vassa rolls his eyes from the commentating table.

VASSA: “And here we have the most boring champion in the company trying to hold onto his title. Im crossing my fingers and even my balls that Jay Mora wins tonight.”

JOHNSON: “Demarcus has been doing an outstanding job so far in his defending of the Ignition Championship and I wouldnt be surprised if he walked away tonight with another successful defense to add to the books.”

VASSA: “I can barely understand what he’s saying half of the time. When people think of 4CW, they dont think of Demarcus. Another example of how you can join a company and not be considered as part of the place.”

JOHNSON: “I would have to disagree here, Vinny. I believe that Demarcus has been nothing but remarkable ever since entering this company.”

VASSA: “I guess i can give him some credit from coming from Millennium and not being afraid to enter the ring with real competition unlike those tards from there who fight weaker competition and wouldnt dare step foot into a 4CW ring. Doesnt matter though, I still want Jay to become the new Ignition Champion, he’s the only one in the match worth it.”

JOHNSON: “You act as if Magdalena also hasnt been faring well in this match and holding her own.”

VASSA: “I’m pretty sure she’s going to drop the ball like she’s accustomed to doing so not even wasting my time. GIVE THEM HELL, JAY!!!”

While Johnson shakes his head at his enthusiastic co-commentator, Jay is in the ring doing exactly that with handling both of his opponents with ease as the fans show that they are on his side tonight. Sure, they find Jay being drunk entertaining as hell but with him on his game tonight and really putting forth the effort, it instills newfound hope into them. The fans will agree that Demarcus has been a great champion but a sober Jay putting in the work? Who would dare count him out as he reminds the fans that he is also as deadly as they come as well. That damn crash dummy stood no chance against him two weeks ago and neither were these two tonight. He felt he was the better choice, he had bled for Four Corners way longer than these two and he deserved proper recognition for it in which he believed the Ignition Title would be the first step.

Magdalena had other plans though as he faded into the background and allowed the two men to go at each other without reservations, their focus being entirely on each other while she remained out of their peripheral. She was stuck in the ring with two powerhouses but that didnt curb her hunger one bit for wanting the Ignition title at the end of the match. It seemed as if she had to go the sneaky route and attack their blind spots in order to get any good shots in because as soon as they got their hands on her, they would suspend her into the air like a rag doll before having her meet the mat with a powerful impact. So she thought why not just let them tire each other out since they keep constantly making a beeline for one another.

Demarcus is deeply enthralled in this battle with Jay but Magdalena is still soundly on his mind, making sure to never forget her presence even if he can currently see her whereabouts. He knows that she is lurking, looking for a chance to one up both him and Jay so he keeps reminding himself that this is a triple threat and not a fight with just Jay. Jay was giving him more of a run of his money tonight so it was easy to give Jay most of the attention but he also knew that forgetting Magdalena would be his biggest downfall yet because she could take it all tonight if she played her cards right. Jay ends up shoving Demarcus backwards and before Demarcus knew it, Jay hits him with Marked to make him go down like Joe Frazier. Jay quickly goes for the pin as the audience becomes excited thinking he may have it.

ONE

.

.

TWO

And Magdalena SLAMS her foot down on Jay’s back to break the count at two as the audience erupts with boos of aggravation.

VASSA: “ARE YOU SER- see… this is why i dont care for her. Jay almost had it!”

JOHNSON: “Magdalena is doing what she has to do to make sure no one other than she walks out of the ring with the Ignition Championship tonight.”

VASSA: “I wish she’d walk into a freight train.”

The audience holds hope in Jay as Demarcus just shakes his head at the fans as he gets to his feet while Magdalena is handling Jay at the moment. Jay is supposed to be considered a bad guy but he is being cheered? Demarcus writes it off as one of the many confusions that society has amongst themselves nowadays. But everyone loves a good redemption story and Jay is shows signs that he’s really building himself back up but Demarcus could careless because tonight, it was all about keeping his title. He watches Magdalena work and allows her to get hers off for a moment on Jay before Demarcus returns to the fight with his goal of retaining tonight heavy on his mind. Magdalena has just brought Jay to his knees and came at him with a running knee to the face to get him out of the way for a moment and just in time too as Demarcus gets a hold of her. Magdalena is successfully able to break out of Demarcus’ grasp and lays the smacketh down on him with her assortments of forearm shivs and toe kicks that seems to help keep him at bay.

As soon as he hits the mat, Magdalena is spinning around looking for Jay and finds him when lifts her up in the air as soon as she faces him. Magdalena tries to maneuver her way out of his clutches and it seems hopeless for her momentarily until she’s able to knee him in the face hard enough for him to let go of her. As soon as she falls to the mat, she springs up and irish whips him towards the ropes, following close behind to dropkick him as soon as his back touches the ropes. Jay goes over the ropes and lands on the ground below as a satisfied Magdalena dusts her hands off in a job well done. She turns around and comes face to face with a ready Demarcus as she impulsively begins throwing jabs and right hooks at him to keep some space between them so that Demarcus cant get an opening opportunity to take advantage. It works for a while before Demarcus eventually is able to get close enough and closing the gap between them is all it takes before Magdalena gets dropped with The Enlightenment. The referee is right there ready for the count as Jay is getting onto his feet outside of the ring.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

WINNER: DeMarcus Gresham via Pinfall (10:47)

The camera cuts to ringside where we find no one other than Perry Wallace, the owner of 4CW, standing in the ring with a mic in hand. He paces back and forth for a few moments before finally realizing that the cameras are on him. Stopping in place, he looks out over the crowd while slowly bringing the microphone to his lips.

WALLACE: ”Good evening Portland! How is everyone doing tonight?!”

The crowd fires back with thunderous boos that fill the entire arena. Looking confused by their reaction, Perry’s eyes then quickly light up before he pulls his phone out and looks down to it briefly. Slowly, he raise his head and looks back over the crowd to address them.

WALLACE: ”My apologies, Folks! I meant good evening Seattle!”

The crowd remains dead silent as Perry attempts to correct his mistake by addressing the city by the wrong name. Shrugging his shoulders, Perry doesn’t let it get to him.

WALLACE: ”Nice to see you all too and WELCOME TO ADRENALINE BABY!!!”

Still, nothing from the crowd.

WALLACE: ”I want to thank you all for joining us here tonight. Your contributions to 4CW’s funds are greatly appreciated. In fact, they are so appreciated that I wanted to come out here tonight and give you folks something you didn’t expect when you spent your hard earned money on a ticket for Adrenaline.”

Crickets. There’s no coming back for him at this point after the mistake moments prior.

WALLACE: ”Just two weeks ago we witnessed a fantastic main event to close out Adrenaline Eighty-Eight in PORTLAND. Maybe we’ll see a mai event just as great tonight with Bryan Laughlin and Anastasia Hyden. Who knows, anything is possible. As great as that match was two weeks ago, a winner was not declared as the official ruling was a draw by both Viduus and Ana pinning each other simultaneously.”

He paces the ring slowly for a short moment before continuing. He then looks up the ramp at the entrance on top of the stage.

WALLACE: ”At this time I would like to invite both Viduus and Ana to the ring with me for a moment.”

The familiar beating of drums begins simultaneously turning the lights the arena all to red. “Cry Little Sister” echoes through the arena greeted by some of the loudest boos you have ever heard in 4CW. The Speaker makes his way out of the curtain first examining the crowd from left to right before stepping to the side to allow the 4CW Pride Champion to take center stage.

Viduus Morta proudly wears the title around his waist but has no time for the crowd and doesn’t play to them in the slightest way. Viduus and The Speaker make their way up the steps sneering at Perry Wallace but interested in why they are out here. The Speaker stands probably uncomfortably close to Perry as Viduus steps towards the corner leaning up against the turnbuckles awaiting the 4CW champion.

WALLACE: ”There’s one…”

The three stand in the ring waiting for the fourth member of this meeting to arrive and she doesn’t make them wait too long as “Shook Ones (Part II)” by Mobb Deep hits and out walks Anastasia Hayden with the 4CW Championship resting on her shoulder. She receives her usual mixed reaction, but there are a few more cheers, perhaps out of sympathy for her being jumped the last show.

Making her way down to the ring, Anastasia doesn’t even acknowledge the crowd, instead she’s focused right on the monstrous man standing in the ring. She walks up the steps and climbs into the ring, taking center stage to hold up her 4CW Championship for the world to see before backing away into a corner of her own. She resumes her glare right at Viduus as she’s handed a microphone and Ana awaits for what comes next.

With everyone now in the ring, Perry looks from side to side at each person before raising the mic once more.

WALLACE: ”Now that everyone is here, I’d like to introduce you to your opponent for Adrenaline Ninety!”

Eyes begin to shift from everyone in the ring as the crowd finally responds to something Perry said in a positive manner.

WALLACE: ”You two gave each other everything you had and we still weren’t able to determine a winner. With Bad Company in just two weeks, obviously you two can’t compete against each other in singles competition then since you’re both entering Bad Company and the tag team tournament. But at the Adrenaline following Bad Company, we will see the Pride Champion, Viduus Morta, challenging the 4CW Champion, Anastasia Hayden, for the 4CW Championship!”

The crowd explodes as the announcement is made. Ana and Viduus stare at one another as Perry looks on with a grin stretched across his face.

WALLACE: ”Yout wo may even run into each other at Bad Company before then. Anything is bound to happen but one thing is certain. At Adrenaline Ninety, Viduus Morta and Anastasia Hayden will collide once again, and this time for the championship of all championships in this business, the grandest of them all… THE 4CW CHAMPIONSHIP!!!”

He could have tried but there was really no reason to hide it; Viduus grinned from ear to ear resembling a Dr. Seuss character more than a human being. The Speaker also had the biggest smile on his face upon hearing the news. As for the 4CW Champion, she shoots a quick glare over to Perry before rolling her eyes back over to The Speaker then looking directly at Viduus. While he kept his smile, Anastasia was glaring a hole right through him.

SPEAKER: “It was I who called you a transitional champion Anastasia but I never thought Perry had the gall to actually allow Viduus to place that tag upon you permanently. We hope you have enjoyed your time as Cinderella but at Adrenaline Ninety…the clock strikes midnight.”

HAYDEN: ”Riveting. Truly, it is. I’ll give you credit though, never before have two idiots done so much with so little…and now Viduus is getting a shot at MY 4CW Championship…which I think serves as a healthy reminder as to who the top dog is still. If you want to talk about fantasies, well I’d suggest you two go ahead and wake up.”

Anastasia keeps her attention locked in on Viduus, barely bothering to address The Speaker throughout her rant. Viduus took one step forward as if he was about throw a strike but The Speaker backed him off. The Speaker stood in front of Anastasia while Viduus seethed silently behind him.

SPEAKER: “Top dog? As in…you? Even you don’t believe that Ana. Even you-”

The Speaker was cut off though by Viduus pulling him back and almost pulling him to the ground. He downwards at Ana not speaking a word but only trying to peer into his soul the way he held his gaze.

HAYDEN: ”That’s right, Viduus, pull your puppet master back.”

Ana gives a mocking wave toward The Speaker, finally acknowledging him, but just for a moment as she looks right back at the Pride Champion.

HAYDEN: ”Hold onto the technicality, Viduus. Hold onto that draw…but come Adrenaline Ninety? You won’t be holding onto this…”

With the towering Viduus right in front of her, Anastasia drops her microphone, and holds up her 4CW Championship right in his face; annoyingly so in an attempt to provoke a response. For a brief moment it looked as if Viduus was going to act. It looked as if Ana had gotten under his skin but that moment was fleeting. Darkness consumed the arena while the crowd buzzed awaiting some sort of altercation. The lights had come back on and Anastasia was left there holding the 4CW Championship high in the ring with Perry Wallace and no one else. Viduus and the Speaker had disappeared.

She dropped the belt, Anastasia looking around, ready for another attack, but upon just seeing Perry, she regained her composure as she picked the 4CW Championship back up and smirked at the disappearance of Viduus and The Speaker. She steps past Perry without a word and looks right into the camera, holding up the 4CW Championship once more, and mouthing that it’s staying with her.

Perry stands by, appearing very pleased with what had unfolded in the ring. In the back of his mind he was probably hoping the two would try to rip each apart right then and there but there was no violence. There were no punches thrown, no kicks to the head, and no unexpected attacks from those not involved. Looking over the crowd, Perry slowly raises the microphone to his lips as he now has the entire ring to himself.

WALLACE: “And there you have it! I told you all that I had something good for you, Por– I mean Seattle! In just four weeks we will see the Pride Champion and the 4CW Champion going head to head at Adrenaline Ninety for the 4CW Championship. Wow!”

And with that, he drops the microphone with style. At least in his mind but was quickly cut short as the cameras faded out.

Backstage we see a tight shot on a single television set, but as the scene pulls wider we see other flat screens surrounding it. They create somewhat of a wall with multiple camera angles of the ring, but one of the televisions isn’t showing the live shot of Adrenaline, no. It’s paused on Bronx’s face.

LAUGHLIN: “Okay… now move forward slowly… SLOWLY.”

In slow motion we see the tape of Bronx move slower than UFO proof footage on youtube as he glances over at Ana while the bottom of the screen says forty-nine seconds.

LAUGHLIN: “Now hit play… full speed… HIT PLAY.”

As the video goes back to normal speed we see the footage that has haunted Bryan for weeks now, his friend Bronx clotheslining him over the top rope right after he looked to see what Ana was doing.

LAUGHLIN: “You see…. You see what I mean?”

The focus of the show pans over to Laughlin who has his arm around a helpless producer who is smiling through his obvious fear. The producer nods and slowly tries to slip out of the aggressive ‘arm around my buddy’ hold Bryan has on him, but he pulls him in tighter.

LAUGHLIN: “Okay now run it ba- wait why is that tv showing me?”

PRODUCER: “Th- this is a segment… on Adrenaline…”

LAUGHLIN: “I signed up for a segment?”

Bryan looks at the television then back to the camera that was focusing on him then to the producer before letting him go and ‘fixing his collar’.

LAUGHLIN: “Right… well then. I was just here with my pal Jeremy..”

PRODUCER: “It’s Steve.”

LAUGHLIN: “Sure, Dave here was showing me the footage that confirms everything I said. It’s proof of my suspiscion. Tonight will be a hell of a lot longer than forty nine seconds Ana. It’s not going to be some walk in the park New York City pretty boy model across from you in the ring who has been pampered by the wheelchair gang over at the global wuss alliance. It’s going to be the force of nature that you avoided with those forty nine seconds left. The one man who could have taken your opportunity at having your name forever etched into the history of this company. It’s gunna be ME.”

The producer cracks a bit of a laugh and Bryan shoots him a look as veins bulge in his neck.

PRODUCER: “I get it… like the boy band son- you know what I have work to do around here so…”

Bryan isn’t amused as he storms past the camera and walks out into the hallway.

UNDERCARD
OMERTA VS. BATTLE BORN

And here’s some more tag team action for the night as we have the team of Omerta taking on the reigning 4CW Tag Team Champions, Battle Born. Starting things off, we have Cyrus in the ring for Omerta and Cosmo in the ring for Battle Born. The two circle each other in the center of the ring, sizing one another up as the tension begins to build. At the same time, the two lunge forward, locking up in the center but it didn’t take long for Cyrus to gain control as he pulled Cosmo’s head down to his side and locked in a side headlock. He cranked down on the headlock for a few moments before Cosmo was able to rip his head away from Cyrus’ hold and pushing him forward to the ropes. Coming back on the return, Cyrus slamming his shoulder into Cosmo’s, knocking him flat on his back with a shoulder block. Cosmo immediately shot up to his feet and slapped both hands across Cyrus’ chest before pointing to the ropes and yelling for him to give it another go. Cyrus obliges, taking off for the ropes and upon his return, it’s the same result. His shoulder into Cosmo’s and Cosmo ending up flat on his back. Cosmo shot back to his feet, pointing for Cyrus to do it once more. Quickly turning to the ropes, Cyrus faked a step forward before swinging his entire body around and catching Cosmo in the side of the head with a right hook. Cosmo fired back with one of his own but missed as Cyrus ducked down and countered with a shot to Cosmo’s ribs. Cosmo took another swing, but his arm was caught by Cyrus. Cosmo threw his other arm up but Cyrus caught that one as well. Now with both of Cosmo’s arms trapped, Cyrus began slamming his head forward over and over, hitting Cosmo with solid headbutts.

Popping his leg up, Cyrus drove his knee into Cosmo’s stomach before locking onto his head and taking him down to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker. Pulling Cosmo to his feet, Cyrus dragged him to the corner before throwing him into it, and also into a forearm to the back from his good friend Dakota! Dakota began attacking Cosmo from behind as Cyrus rushed in, plowing into Cosmo with a running knee to the stomach. The two made a quick tag and as Dakota climbed into the ring, Cyrus made sure to keep Cosmo in his place as he kicked him over and over in the stomach. Stepping in, Dakota nodded to Cyrus and sent him on his way out to the apron before locking his hands on Cosmo and holding him in place for a headbutt right between the eyes. Ripping Cosmo out of the corner, Dakota lifted him off his feet before throwing him to the center of the ring. Cosmo crashed down onto his shoulder and rolled completely over once before pushing himself up to both knees and one arm holding himself up. As Cosmo looked up, Dakota was right there, rushing in with a yakuza kick to Cosmo’s face! Crawling over Cosmo, Dakota went for the pin but in the corner of his eye, he spotted Jeb quickly dipping through the ropes. Popping back to his feet, Dakota rushed towards Jeb and the two collided in a fury of punches thrown. Dakota gained the upper hand after catching Jeb with an elbow to the temple, knocking him off balance. Grabbing ahold of Jeb, Dakota then threw him threw the ropes and to the outside.

Dakota was full of energy, something different than we’ve seen over the recent weeks of a broken body falling apart on him. Going toe to toe with Jeb seemed to have ignited something within, probably because he secretly has a crush on him but who are we to judge. The scuffle between the two gave Cosmo all the time he needed to get back to his feet and with Dakota focused on Jeb on the outside of the ring, it was the perfect opportunity for him to strike. Grabbing Dakota by the shoulder, Cosmo spun him around and fired away with rapid open hand chops across Dakota’s chest. Each one that connected sounded louder than the one prior. After slapping Dakota’s chest half a dozen times, Cosmo swung his entire body around, throwing a stiff kick into Dakota’s ribs. The kicked knocked the breath out of Dakota as he dropped down to one knee. All of that energy seemed to vanish right then and there. Grabbing onto Dakota’s head with both hands, Cosmo held it in place as he began ramming multiple knee straight into Dakota’s face. Pulling Dakota to his feet, Cosmo then lifted him up into the air before dropping him back to the mat with a suplex. Rolling backwards, Cosmo mounted himself on top of Dakota where he then fired at will with lightning fast forearm shots to Dakota’s face. Popping back to his feet, Cosmo then went upside down with a handstand before swinging his legs back down and driving a knee directly into Dakota’s shoulder. Pulling Dakota up to his feet, Cosmo then whipped Dakota to the corner and took off behind him. As Dakota’s body crashed into the corner, Cosmo went airborne, flying through the air and colliding into Dakota with a body splash. When Cosmo dropped to his feet, he looked to the apron where Jeb was eager to get in on the action and being the great partner that he is, he gave Jeb exactly what he wanted and tagged him in.

Jeb was in the ring in no time and on Dakota before he even knew what hit him. With Dakota propped up against the corner, Jeb unloaded with brutal lefts and rights to Dakota’s head and body, as if he were trying to beat what little love Bob Fisher had for him out to take for himself. Swinging with all of his might, Jeb hit Dakota across the nose with an elbow, turning it into a faucet as blood began pouring out from it uncontrollably. Pulling Dakota’s head down, Jeb clinched onto him and began popping his knee upward into Dakota’s face over and over. Lifting Dakota off his feet and pulling him away from the corner, Jeb threw him into the air with an overhead toss. Dakota’s back slammed against the mat and he rolled to an upright seated position where the camera cause a shot of his face, which appeared to be in a world of pain, covered in his own blood. Jeb was on him like a rabid dog, kicking and stomping down onto Dakota with everything he had. Pulling Dakota to his feet, Jeb held onto his arm as he pulled Dakota into a knee to the stomach. Pulling Dakota’s head down and between his legs, Jeb then lifted Dakota into the air before taking a few steps forward and throwing him into the corner with a tossing powerbomb. It was a devastating move on Jeb’s end, but may not have been the smartest as he threw Dakota into his own corner where Cyrus was on standby to make the tag before Jeb could prevent it.

As Cyrus dipped through the ropes, Jeb yelled “‘ello there guv’na” before throwing a right and hitting Cyrus in the back of the head before he could fully enter the ring. Cyrus was now caught up in the ropes and Jeb used it to his advantage as he continued attacked Cyrus. After doing quite the number on Cyrus, Jeb dragged him through the ropes and into the ring. Grabbing Cyrus by the head with both hands, Jeb pressed his face to the mat before dragging it back and forth. Pulling Cyrus to his feet, Jeb position himself beside him. Going for a reverse Russian leg sweep, Jeb was caught off guard before he could execute as Cyrus drilled into the side of his head with an elbow. Turning Jeb around, Cyrus wrapped him up from behind before lifting him off his feet and throwing him to the mat full nelson suplex. Jeb wasn’t staying down long, but he wasn’t getting back to his feet before Cyrus either. As Jeb stood, Cyrus was right there to greet him with a European uppercut, followed by another, and then another, sending Jeb falling backwards to the ropes after three consecutive uppercuts. Jeb bounced off the ropes and fell straight into Cyrus arms where he was quickly taken off his feet and slammed to the mat with a T-bone suplex! Cyrus was on a roll and there wasn’t anything that Jeb could do about it. Well, take that back. As Cyrus pulled Jeb to his feet, Jeb jabbed his thumb into Cyrus’ eye, blinding him just enough to pull himself away and break from from Cyrus’ hold.

Cyrus held a hand over his eye, blinded to his surroundings. Running to the ropes in front of Cyrus, Jeb bounced off and came back full speed, leaping into the air feet first and planting both feet into Cyrus’ face with a dropkick! Cyrus fell backwards to the mat as Jeb fell to it as well. Pushing himself up instantly, Jeb was on Cyrus in no time, kicking him in the ribs and throwing down punches to Cyrus’ shoulder. Pulling Cyrus up to his feet, Jeb lifted him into the air before dropping him onto his knee with a rib-breaker. Still holding Cyrus, Jeb stood to both feet again and dropped Cyrus across his knee with a second rib-breaker. Each time Jeb hit him with a rib-breaker, he moved closer and closer to the corner where Dakota waited on the outside. Going for a third rib-breaker, his momentum was brought to a halt as the official found himself within arms length of Cyrus. Cyrus grabbed the officials shirt, which caused Jeb to stop from going for a third. Ducking down and leaning through the ropes, Dakota swung his arm upward right between Jeb’s legs, hitting him with a low blow from behind which wasn’t seen by the official. Jeb released Cyrus and fell to his knees and before the official could figure out what happened, Dakota was back to standing on the apron as if nothing happened.

Cyrus slowly climbed back to his feet, as did Jeb. Jeb wasn’t paying attention to anything else other than the pain that had settled in his stomach. Running to the ropes behind Jeb, Cyrus rebounded off and came back with some speed, leveling Jeb from behind with a lariat to the back of the head. Pulling Jeb to his feet, Cyrus then lifted him into the air before dropping him on his head with his Darkness Falls (Dominator into sit-out piledriver)! Making the cover, Cyrus hooked a leg as the official was right there with the count.

ONE

Cosmo dipped through the ropes and charged across the ring.

.

.

TWO

Climbing the corner, Dakota then leaped forward through the air, throwing his body carelessly into Cosmo’s path like a missile intercepting him as they collided.

.

.

THREE!!!

WINNER: Omerta via Pinfall (14:29)

The camera cuts backstage where we find a trio of sorts with Phoenix Quagliaterre, Antonia Patton, and Perry Wallace. They walk the hall, just the three of them, talking amongst themselves.

WALLACE: “Okay, now i don’t know how familiar you two are with this guy but I’ve known him for a good while. He’s even competed here in 4CW a time or two. Right now, he isn’t doing anything but being a nuisance to my son online, and before that it was backstage here at Adrenaline a few months back. But he knows the locker room, and it’s someone that they can relate to, somewhat.”

PATTON: “Who exactly are we intervie–”

QUAGLIATERRE: “OH HELL NO!!!”

Cutting his head to the left, Perry shoots his eyes towards Phe.

WALLACE: “What the fuck?!”

Being the only mature adult out of the three, Antonia speaks up before anyone else has a chance to blurt out obscenities in the hall.

PATTON: “Children!”

Looking away from Phe, Perry looks down to the floor as the three continue to wherever it is they’re going.

WALLACE: “Sorry, baby.”

This draws a snicker from Phe as she finds it amusing. Perry sighs before continuing.

WALLACE: “Look it. We have two full rosters again and having a helping hand to deal with roster relations would benefit us all.”

Rolling her eyes, Phe can’t help but add her two cents.

QUAGLIATERRE: “You just want someone else to babysit so you can eat Antonia’s ass without any interruptions.”

WALLACE: “And?”

Perry asks as if what she said is in fact true and the only reason.

PATTON: “CHILDREN!!!”

Antonia says with a loud tone.

WALLACE: “She’s not wrong, you know.”

QUAGLIATERRE: “Mhmm…”

Antonia can only shake her head at their behavior. The three finally come to a stop in front of an office door. Looking back to the ladies, Perry places a hand on the doorknob.

WALLACE: “Alright, alright, let’s get ahold of ourselves here. It’s go time.”

Perry swings the door open and on the inside we see Boston sitting in a chair all by himself.

WALLACE: “Boston, so nice of you to join us. Sorry to keep you waiting…”

The three then enter the office before closing the door, leaving the camera with nothing to film on the outside as the scene slowly fades out.

CO-HEADLINE
EMERY LAYTON VS. GENEVIE CARLSON

As the opening drums of The Feud’s rendition of Kate Bush classic “Running Up That Hill” hit the PA system, excitement hits the air. The song explodes to life and the Worst of the Pavees herself- wearing her leather jacket and beanie over her gear- emerges from behind the curtain, clearly impressed with the amount of people have turned out. She’s holding her arms out as she struts down the ramp and swaying her head to the beat of her entrance theme, her eyes closed. She’s lost in the moment, there’s nowhere else she’d rather be right now.

POWERS: ”Making her way to the ring- from Anywhere and Everywhere, weighing one hundred thirty-five pounds…’The Worst of the Pavees’ EMERY LLAAYYTTOONN!!!”

Once she reaches the bottom of the ramp, she pulls her beanie off and thrusts it into her pocket as she skates up the steel steps and climbs the turnbuckle. As the fans cheer, it’s quite obviously not loud enough for her, as she lifts her arms up, indicating for them to get louder. Once the eccentric Irish traveller has spent enough time up there, Emery leaps down from the top rope and into the ring, transitioning from that into probably the most graceful, crisp forward-roll you’ve ever seen. Once she’s in there, she runs to the rope right behind her bouncing off it as she drops to her knees and skids forwards, as all the lights drop except a single spotlight on her and the lights from cell phone cameras as her upperbody falls backwards. After a few moments of just simply listening to the cheers, she flips onto her front and crawls into her corner, removing her jacket and dumping the battered old thing to the outside as she sits down, legs flat out, waiting for the match to begin.

VASSA: “Think Emery needs a new jacket.”

JOHNSON: “Or maybe she prefers that one. Not every wrestler is interested in the full blown glitz and glam look.”

VASSA: “All I’m saying is wrestlers like to brag that they are doing all these matches, shows, et cetera which means they have to be making alot of money, then they turn around and dress like Cass Baumer.”

JOHNSON: “How exactly do you mean?”

VASSA: “Looking unkempt and in a dire need of a shower, is what.”

The beginning beat of “Killing You Hoes” by Trina begins to play as the lights dim, only white and pink lights shine move out over the crowd.

“Ah ah ah yep yep yep

The baddest bitch is back,

I’m back part 2, part 2

I’m reloaded and I’m killin you hoes”

Genevie appears from behind the curtain with a smirk on her face as she looks around the crowd, drinking in the boos as she does her signature stripper dance, twirling around as she shakes her ass. She completes a rotation as she bites her lip and winks at the crowd making her way down the ramp.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at one hundred thirty-six, she is ‘THE BOSTON GENIE’ …GENEVIE CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

VASSA: “Now see, that? That is how a real woman should look. She looks nice and clean, i doubt anyone can try to make her look something so ratty.”

JOHNSON: “There is nothing wrong with Emery’s jacket, Vinny and everyone has different tastes when it comes to style and what they like.”

VASSA: “Oh believe me, I get that. You think after Genevie wipes the floor with Emery that she can give her wardrobe pointers? Just because you act like some sort of warrior doesnt mean you have to look it. In alot of warrior movies I’ve watched, even they dressed better.”

“I don’t care what a bitch think or how a hoe feel

Cause ain’t nann one of you hoes payin my bills

And ain’t nann one of you hoes fina buy me a crib

And ain’t nann one of you hoes fina get me a whip

I know I must make a lot of ya’ll hoes sick

And all I can tell you hoes, get used to it bitch!”

Genevie carries her head high as she walks down the ramp with confidence, with slow and steady steps. As the song plays she walks around to the side of the ring, hopping up on the apron. She adjusts her SnapBack as she blows the fans a kiss, listening to the boos get louder. This only makes her smirk grow wider as she climbs through the middle ropes, and standing up in the ring as she runs her hands down her body.

“And don’t you cross that line cause I get hot quick

And if you do it’s gonna be me & u up in this bitch

And I’m gonna show you why they call me the baddest bitch”

She does one final twirl to show off her ASSETS, rolling her eyes at the jealous fans as she goes over to the ropes and leans against them, checking her nails as the referee comes over and she dismisses him to get away from her because he is a peasant and she is The Princess. He backs off and she just continues to smirk as the music dies down and Emery takes a few steps towards the center of the ring with her eyes locked onto her opponent as Genevie finally turns her attention onto her.

The two are involved into a stare down as Genevie does a bit of trash talking and Emery looks unfazed with even waving some of her words away as if nothing Genevie says bothers her one bit. The referee is right by their side as soon as the bell rings and the women wastes no time getting their hands on one another, pumping the crowd up with that excitement of seeing some good ol violence as Emery got some good shots in before taking off for the ropes before Genevie could return fire. Genevie caught her by surprise with a strong ring punch as soon as Emery had gotten onto two steps towards her after bouncing off the ropes and Genevie followed up with a roundhouse kick for good measure. Soon, she was building up a rhythm to try to wreck Emery even though it was still the beginning of the match but Genevie was known for not holding back and going for the jugular right off the bat as Emery fends her off with a few counter swings and kicks until a few kicks to the shin awards Emery the opportunity to be able to get some paces back to put space between her and Genevie but you know Genevie isnt going for that as she charges immediately and gets surprised by a dropklck, playing right into Emery’s hands.

VASSA: “You know…. Emery reminds me of someone, I just cant put my finger on it.”

JOHNSON: “Why am I even surprised?? You always think someone reminds you of someone.”

VASSA: “Steve, I’m serious!”

JOHNSON: “And I am too, now focus on the match… for the right reasons.”

Emery may have thought she pulled a fast one on Genevie but Genevie showed her by serving Emery those hands like back to school hot lunch once Genevie was able to get her hands back on her. The next few moments proved to be a power struggle between the two as Emery had the upper for a hot second until Genevie gained it, this going on for the next few moments until finally, Genevie knees Emery in the gut and the brings her elbow down hard on the back of her head twice until Emery goes down to her knees.

VASSA: “I watched this once in a girl on girl movie before. The person that goes down went down alright and boy, did she make the other woman happy. Only thing getting struck after that was the woman standing reaching those high notes.”

JOHNSON: “……uhhhhh……”

VASSA: “What??? It works for this situation too because if you think about it, we all know how loud Genie gets especially when she’s yelling at someone.”

JOHNSON: “I am going to guess that Genevie yelling at people and the woman yelling in the movie are not the same.”

VASSA: “You know me so well.”

JOHNSON: “And this is when i start paying you no mind…. anyways, folks. Emery with a shining wizard and then a moonsault senton as soon as she rises. She’s already pulling out all of the stops on Genevie and showing that she will do what it takes to get the win tonight. But Genevie isnt an easy person to just stay down…”

VASSA: “Well…”

Johnson cuts his eyes over at Vassa before returning his attention fully back to the ring where Emery is trying to lay Genevie out to dry with a swift knee to the gut and then a DDT before Emery steps away from her opponent to yell out to the audience to get a chant started.

“EM-ERY LAY-TON, EM-ERY LAY-TON”

Alot of clapping is involved as the audience hypes of Emery and she in return dances to the chant, temporarily leaving herself unprotected by Genevie with not being on as high of an alert as she should be. She never forgets her opponent though and doesnt carry on with having a good ol time for long because she then turns around ready to go for Genevie but didnt expect Genevie to be right behind her as she strikes quickly and has Emery taking steps back from how hard she’s hitting her in the face. Genevie ruins any counter that Emery goes for, opting to continue swinging on her with her punches landing successfully and showing her that she isnt a game. Emery fights back, even trying to go for that knee into the gut again but Genevie has been caught on to that and makes sure to quickly step back as soon as she does it but once Emery’s knee goes back down, Genevie steps back up with her fists ready and allows them to return to swinging.

Genevie’s punches has Emery stumbling back into the turnbuckle but once Genevie charges, Emery ducks and quickly gets out of dodge as Genevie ends up running into the turnbuckle. Knowing that time isnt of the essence, Emery quickly makes her move as she charges and dropkicks Genevie in the back to slow her down a bit and then wraps her arm around her neck from behind and takes a few steps back so that Genevie has to move with her. Emery tightens her arm around her neck and means business, even jerking Genevie back whenever she tries to find a way to break the lock. This goes on for a few short moments until Genevie has had enough so she begins trying to stomp back on Emery’s foot in an attempt to get Emery to jerk her back once more and as soon as Emery does, Genevie quickly finds that opportunity of escape with taking her elbow and ramming it into the front of Emery.

Emery’s facial expression gives it away that she definitely did feel that but tries to ignore the pain so that can she tightened the lock on Genevie’s neck but Genevie follows up with two more elbow digs and Emery has no choice but to let go and ends up on her back from Genevie smashing her elbow into her face next. Genevie bends down to pull Emery onto her feet while Emery looks for an out to put Genevie down but Genevie doesnt waste anytime with putting Emery down with an Alabama Slam as soon as Emery had mentally formed a plan. It was do or die with Genevie, she had been wrestling long enough that any form of hesitation or giving an opponent even two seconds of leeway was enough for the opponent to get the drop on you.

But seeing Emery laying on the mat like she was in pain, she couldnt help but to greet her disapproving Corners Four audience with a wave done better than a royal from London while also blowing a kiss. She then quickly went back to working on Emery with not another second spared while Vassa grinned heavily from Genevie’s taunts rather than the damage she was trying to do to Emery right now. He was going to comment but he glanced over to a focused Vassa calling the match and ignoring the hell out of the annoying Vassa. Genevie had Emery against the mat as she worked away at her faces with those punches that seemed to always come when it came to Mrs. Carlson tearing away at her opponent. She always stuck to her strengths and knew her weaknesses enough to always try to remain on top of the competition inside of the ring. Satisfied, Genevie rises to her feet and off of Emery while Emery grabs a hold of Genevie’s legs with trying to get her to fall on the mat until she’s finally successful in doing so.

Emery puts the business on Genevie once she makes sure Genevie is fully on her stomach before going for the muta lock, the audience thinking this may be over as they become extremely audible and cheer on Emery in her quest to defeat the woman that everyone loves to hate and loves to report on social media because they are afraid of a real woman while these ugly twitter lesbos roam the earth smelling like the worse case of the clap.

JOHNSON: “Emery is indeed fighting back and if she keeps this locked in then this may be over before you know it.”

VASSA: “Cant believe you dont have confidence in Genie like that, especially when she does nothing but represent our company to the fullest. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

JOHNSON: “Dont allow lust to distract you from whats going on in the ring. Emery has been doing a great job holding her own and I will give credit where it is due.”

VASSA: “You lack loyalty”

Emery’s still got that muta lock locked in as Genevie is on the struggle with wanting to escape it but to no avail. She finally stops struggling as much to realize the ropes are staring her dead in the face like a deer caught in headlights as she stretches an arm towards it in hopes that she’s near enough and gets lucky once her hand grips onto the bottom rope. The referee takes notices and Emery lets go of Genevie with a slight frown while Genevie breathes out that sigh of relief. She would have fought through it as long as she would have been able to but she knew Emery was trying to choke her out in order to end this match. Genevie wasnt going for that though as she massages her neck for a few seconds before she begins to get onto her feet while an awaiting Emery attacks immediately, not wanting to give Genevie any room to breathe let alone to think up a strategy because she wasnt for taking any Ls tonight.

Emery grabs her from behind again but Genevie wasnt on it this time as she drives her elbow back into Emery and then quickly drops to her knees so that she can flip Emery over her shoulder with a surprise take down. Some of the Corners Four fans are impressed how Genevie is handling herself but then quickly remembers that they are supposed to hate her so they wipe those awe struck eyes and begin to boo her as if on cue while Genevie pays them no mind and focuses on going at Emery. Emery catches Genevie in the jaw with an impulsive punch as soon as she had seen her charge towards her and begins to attack her face with her forearm. The blows force Genevie back and with each forearm smash, Emery’s steps forward begin to talk more of a confident approach as she feels she can really win this. She ducks when Genevie counters Emery’s incoming strike to throw a punch of her own and goes for an European Uppercut.

At this point, the audience is adamant that Emery has this and is excited as they continually cheer her on breathlessly. The cheers seem to give Emery more energy as she continues owning this last part of the match, whipping Genevie into the turnbuckle and running right behind her for a dropkick as soon as Genevie has turned around. Emery keeps up with the dropkicks, The Kicks Inside going strong as she delights herself in making Genevie’s back hit the turnbuckle while her feet plants into her. After the third dropkick, Emery has readied herself for another but ends up missing her target when Genevie hurriedly dives out of the way after making Emery think she was too dazed to move when she was charging towards her. Always on the defense and ready, Genevie sneaks a backbreaker in and walks away unfazed from a grounded Emery. Genevie leans against the ropes for a second to catch her breath from those dropkicks a few moments ago but quickly pulls it together as she rises and is ready to finally end this.

She pulls Emery onto her feet and Emery quickly begins fighting back before Genevie can even put her plan in motion, swinging at Genevie who ducks, ends up behind Emery and goes for a bulldog as the Corners Four fans cheering for Emery become salty in thinking Emery was about to get over on Genevie. Of course Genevie mocks the audience in laughter as they boo in disappoint in how she’s handling Emery, especially when puts Emery down with another Alabama Slam and holds off on approaching her as she watches Emery begin to slowly try to rise up from the mat. But as soon as Emery gets on all fours like Genevie had been waiting for, thats when she makes her move with sprinting forward, that Stiletto Kiss seeming to be all she wrote as Genevie rolls Emery over and quickly covers her to go for the pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

Trina blasts through the speakers as the audience tries to drown out Genevie’s theme with a loud, hissing booes from being disappointed that she didnt get beat by Emery. Genevie of course relishes in the hate and blows kisses at her haters while shaking that ass in celebration as she rotates around and around until she orders the referee to stop checking on Emery and come raise her hand high in the air.

WINNER: Genevie Carlson via Pinfall (13:52)

Given how things have played out for her as of late, Anastasia Hayden still has that touch of arrogance lingering in her body language as the cameras find her backstage. She’s got the 4CW Championship on her shoulder; just about the only thing that’s gone her way. A smirk creeps along Anastasia’s face as she begins to speak.

HAYDEN: ”Send in the clowns.”

A painfully cheeky wink from Ana follows and presumably a groan from everyone watching at home.

HAYDEN: ”But Laughlin isn’t the only clown in 4CW anymore. It’s a company filled with them. It doesn’t matter if you paint your face or don’t; you’re all the same jokes to me. Though, I’ll credit Laughlin as the originator. The man who made painting your face and acting mean and vicious a lifestyle. Sure, it’s campy and ridiculous, but along with these clowns? There are plenty of cowards who hid away from Laughlin when he was ‘broken’.”

Some heavy air quotes from Ana there and a quick roll of the eyes.

HAYDEN: ”I’m not hiding. To some, that can be perceived as foolish, but I’m not in a position to back down from anyone nor would I. I don’t care how much bigger, tougher, or stronger they are than me…it’s not in my blood to back down. These ‘monsters’ don’t scare me. I’m the fucking 4CW Champion…I’ve conquered mountain after mountain to get here; you don’t think I’ve stumbled across some ‘monsters’ along my way?”

A nonchalant scoff that reeks of arrogance.

HAYDEN: ”It’s just a term used by the weak; by those who are afraid. I know what Laughlin has done and win, lose, or draw, I know what Laughlin will continue to do. He’ll continue to be this vicious son of a bitch who loves to put himself through any type of deathmatch…but that doesn’t intimidate me. He bleeds just like me; he’s human just like me. Why should I be afraid? I’ve got Bad Company to win after this, why should I be scared of one match?”

She poses the question for the audience and shrugs it off.

HAYDEN: ”Laughlin is everything he says he is, but guess what? So am I. I’m not scared of what comes next; I’ve got all the confidence in the world. Call me arrogant, call me whatever you’d like…just make sure you remember who I am and what I’ve done. Whether it’s Laughlin, Viduus, Nemesis, or anyone else in the back that wants to call me out…remember that I’m 4CW Champion…”

Ana holds up the belt in question.

HAYDEN: ”And you’re not.”

The 4CW Championship is held up for a bit before finally placed back down upon Anastasia’s shoulders and the champion walks off the scene as the cameras jump elsewhere in the arena.

An old, familiar tune begins to play over the PA system and the fans, exercising muscle memory, erupt with passionate fervor for the sounds of “What You Know,” by T.I. – Bronx Valescence’s old theme song. Despite the confusion this arouses- having already seen Bronx once tonight and it not being time for his match- the crowd is all too eager to get more of the most popular wrestler on the roster- and maybe the planet. The lights are dimmed, there’s no video footage to be seen, just T.I. in the dark. The song plays on through the first chorus.

“See me in your city, sittin’ pretty know I’m shinin dog

Ridin’ with a couple Latin broads and a China doll

And you know how we ball, riding in shiny cars

Walk in designer malls, buy everything we saw”

Suddenly, the lights flash on full blast and standing front and center at the top of the ramp is the sandy blonde haired, blue eyed, athletically gifted, injury prone, female adored, male hated, poster boy of 4CW Uprising’s beginnings- Boston. Two fingers point out to both the left and the right in the form of two guns that didn’t have enough bullets in the world to shoot down the chorus of boos that showered down upon the former Uprising Champion.

“You know about me dog, don’t talk about me dog

And if you doubt me dog, you better out me dog

I’m throwed off slightly bro, don’t wanna fight me bro

I’m fast as lightning bro, you better use your Nikes bro

Know you don’t like me cause your bitch most likely does”

He smiles with vim and vigor, taking in the negative energy- almost relishing in it. The camera closes in on his turquoise eyes and he winks, before mouthing, “expecting somebody else? Bronx? BRONX IS THE-” he kicks the air with fury- “FUCKING BEST!!” He fires his guns before holstering them and taking his leave toward the ring. “Ain’t he?! Ain’t he FUCKING GREAT?!”

The crowd- once ardent supporters of the young man- has completely turned on the competitor, following his most prior run that was marked by poor sportsmanship, stalking of his tag partner, and overall creepiness, and ended by yet ANOTHER injury to his right shoulder. Boston, dressed in a khaki suit with an unbuttoned cornflower blue shirt beneath, enters the ring with a Hollywood smile. He grabs the mic from the ring announcer and addresses the 4CW faithful as “What You Know” cuts off.

BOSTON: “Folks.”

Both his smile and the roar of boos are augmented by this single word made popular on the wrestling scene by Bronx Valescence on social media back in 2015. Boston attempts to begin speaking, but the boos just crank up that much more, causing him to laugh heartily to himself. He slowly saunters around the ring with his laughter, waiting for the sea of boos to finally dissipate.

BOSTON: “I love you, folks. You guys are just too much. Thank you. Thank you. I take it you like my new theme song?”

Another eruption of boos.

BOSTON: “No one was using it anymore. Anyway, folks-”

Boston has to stop, his laughter returning.

BOSTON: “Fol- hah…folks, I’ve come down here with a couple announcements to make. I could tell you that it’s great to be back in front of the ever famed 4CW faithful, but I could really give a fuck less about any of you.”

Torrent of boos rain down.

BOSTON: “I really could. I really could. Anyway, listen, there’s some big news that I thought all of you should know about. It’s pertinent to me, it’s pertinent to you, it’s pertinent to all the boys in the back. It’s pertinent. Now, listen. I’m not sure how many of you pay attention to social media, but this last week has been a lot of fun on Twitter. There’s been some back and forth between myself and some of the boys. All in good fun, I feel like, but it seems that to a couple of your favorites, I- me- the only Uprising Champion that mattered- the most highly acclaimed rookie of all time- it seems that some of the boys in the back don’t like me. Think I’m some sort of cat-calling, irritating creep. Guys like…Bryan Laughlin.”

The crowd erupts with cheers.

BOSTON: “Guys like…Bronx Valescence.”

Pandemonium.

BOSTON: “These guys just don’t like me and it’s all because I’m…being supportive. All I do is cheer Bronxy V on from the sidelines. ‘You’re the best, champ,’ is all I have to say to get Bronx to curse at me. Why? Isn’t he the best? He is, right? He’s the fuckin’ man, isn’t he!? He’s GOD’S GIFT TO PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING- IS-HE-NOT?!?”

Boston’s face begins turning a bit red as he shouts.

BOSTON: “IS HE NOT WHY YOU BOUGHT YOUR TICKET?! IS HE NOT YOUR HERO AND MINE?! Fuck Mark Storm, BRONX is the protagonist of THIS fucking story ISN’T HE?!?”

A mixture of cheers and boos permeate the arena.

BOSTON: “And that’s what I tell him, folks. I just try to support him. And then you’ve got guys like Bryan Laughlin- Riddle? Cyrus Riddle? Pay attention, buddy, I’m about to do you a solid, here.”

Huge crowd pop.

BOSTON: “That fuckin’ psycho. I tell him he’s got a gorgeous wife, and what happens? He threatens me. He calls me a retard. A RETARD!! I tell him that he’s done well for himself in the way of finding a mate for life, and he SHITS ON me! Verbally, of course, but it- it felt…”

Boston wipes a fake tear from his eye.

BOSTON: “It felt terrible. It’s like no matter what I do, I just can’t be accepted. I’m not, ‘one of the boys,’ no matter how hard I try.”

He shakes his head with disappointment before shrugging.

BOSTON: “So…I decided to change that. I, uh…I called in uh…I called in a little favor. See, folks, Perry and I, we go way back. Way, way back. My first 4CW contract was signed on a strippers ass with a bic pen and a cocktail napkin. She was a law student, so it was sort of legal. Anyway, Perry loves me. Perry worships my abilities. Perry bought Uprising from that mongoloid Paul Knight to make it a 4CW brand BECAUSE OF ME AND ME ALONE! Perry bought a WHOLE FUCKING COMPANY for ONE MAN!”

He springs up to the middle rope.

BOSTON: “ME!! ME, GOD DAMN IT!!”

The crowd roars with disapproval.

BOSTON: “So, since I could never be, ‘one of the boys,’ I found another way back into your hearts and minds. I’ll get to that in a second. Anyway, as I was saying, there has been a lot of shit talking against me on Twitter all week long, but I gotta tell ya, it wasn’t all bad. Some of it was…educational. For instance, folks, Bronx Valescence stated that he wanted me to, ‘stay the fuck away from HIS locker room.’ His, folks. HIS!!!”

Boston screams as he violently removes himself from the ring ropes.

BOSTON: “WHERE THE FUCK DOES HE GET OFF, AM I RIGHT?”

BRONXY-V chants fill the arena.

BOSTON: “I’ve got news for ya, Bronxy V! That ain’t your locker room! Not anymore!”

The crowd quiets down a touch.

BOSTON: “IT’S MINE. THAT’S MY FUCKING LOCKER ROOM!!!”

Almost silent.

BOSTON: “DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY, BRONXY? DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY??!”

Boston tears a hair tie away from his head, causing his man-bun to fall into a mess of brown and blonde streaks.

BOSTON: “I’ll fill you in in a second. Laughlin. Bryan Laughlin.”

The crowd pops huge.

BOSTON: “He’s really come into his own lately, hasn’t he? He’s wrestling better than he ever has before. It’s really quite impressive. I’d like the guy, if he wasn’t a sadistic, wife-beating, laughably jealous piece of shit!”

Silent until now, Johnson pipes up.

JOHNSON: “OH, COME ON! HE IS NOT A WIFE BEATER!”

Boston nods his head, “yes,” as if he heard Johnson’s defense of the Monster King.

BOSTON: “Just because his wife wants to fuck me DOES NOT give him the license to talk to me like he did. TO THREATEN ME LIKE HE DID! Regardless, folks, the guy wants a fight. That much is clear. Instead of focusing on Ana like he should have, he was worried about me fucking his wife! Can you believe that?! I called her gorgeous, and suddenly, he wants Boston’s blood to paint the walls of the Key Arena! Jesus FUCK, am I right!”

PAINT-IT-RED, PAINT-IT-RED emanates from the crowd.

BOSTON: “Heathens. Anyway, all of this disrespect…all of this delusion…all of this HATE pointed in MY direction gave me quite an idea. SO, without further adieu, here is my first announcement. At Adrenaline 90? Two weeks after Bad Company? We’re gonna have ourselves a little match.”

Boston smirks as he runs his free hand through his hair before continuing.

BOSTON: “BRONX VALESCENCE!!!”

Wild cheers.

BOSTON: “THE MONSTER KING, BRYAN LAUGHLIN!!!”

Times three.

BOSTON: “No. Holds. Barred.”

The fans’ bloodlust overcomes their warm feelings toward each name mentioned.

BOSTON: “Last. Man. Standing.”

The crowd loses all control.

JOHNSON: “HE CAN’T DO THAT!! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON, HERE?!? WAS HIS MEETING WITH WALLACE-”

VASSA: “I think now you’re catching on, idiot.”

BOSTON: “Now, you may ask yourselves…how? This guy must be full of shit, right? Boston’s finally lost his ENTIRE mind, right? Where does he come off? What fucking nerve, right?! WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?!?”

Boston reels off and begins kicking ring ropes and slamming turnbuckles to mock Johnson and the fans’ shared, confused outrage. His fake tirade ends with him throwing his body into the center of the ring, flat on his back.

BOSTON: “WHO DO I THINK I AM?!?? WHO THE FUCK AM I?!?? WHO THE FUCK DO I THINK I AM, GOD FUCKING FUCK?!??!”

He stops flailing on the mat and maneuvers himself into a more comfortable, “tranquilo,” position, with one arm beneath his now supported head.

BOSTON: “Relax. It’s okay.”

He gathers himself to his feet.

BOSTON: “I’m your new 4CW Adrenaline General Manager.”

Boos nearly blow the lid off of the Key Arena.

BOSTON: “Still your locker room, Bronxy?”

He drops the mic as “What You Know” kicks back up amidst the cavalcade of boos.

JOHNSON: “NO! NO, IT CAN’T BE!!!”

VASSA: “It is, Stevie! It fuckin’ is! This weird motherfucker is our new boss.”

JOHNSON: “How could Wallace let this happen?! What are his qualifications?! Why didn’t Phoenix do something?! What about Dr. Patton bringing a voice of reason in the matter?! How did Boston pull this malarchy off?!”

VASSA: “Watch your mouth and accept it, Stevie. This beautiful man, no homo, could fire you in a heartbeat.”

Beaming, Boston makes his way to the back, but not before stealing a kiss from an attractive woman leaning over the railing, infuriating her husband and the surrounding fans. He laughs hysterically as the 4CW faithful are left to ponder just what the fuck this means for their favorite wrestlers- namely Bronx and Bryan Laughlin. The scene fades as Bronx’s old- and Boston’s new- theme music rambles on.

CO-HEADLINE
A.J. MORALES VS. BRONX VALESCENCE

”A’right, stop, stop, hold on, hold on, hold on—”

After a brief interrupting voice clip, the opening riff to “Reverse This Curse” by Escape the Fate hits the PA. The lighting near the entrance turns gold, vapor starts hissing out of the fog machines, and a highlight reel of clips from A.J. Morales’s past matches starts to play. The Revolution himself emerges with his head down and his eyes closed, walking and headbanging in sync with the music as he plays air-guitar along with it on one of his championship belts, the other hanging around his waist.

JOHNSON: ”Alright, wrestling fans, here we go! Every now and then in this business, the stars align, forces converge, and something truly special happens. Just like the match we just saw with Genie taking a W over Emery Layton, tonight, we’ve got another dream match! A.J. Morales, a wrestler not under contract with 4CW, will be showcasing his talents tonight against the likes of arguably 4CW’s greatest of all-time…Bronx Valescence.”

VASSA: “It may be cool for the novelty effect, Stevie, but Bronx is going to just wipe the floor with this guy. Bronx has said all week long that AJ is not on his level, and he couldn’t be more right.”

JOHNSON: “Morales is an accomplished champion, Vinny. I don’t think you OR Bronx should be taking him lightly.”

A.J. keeps this up until the first verse comes in, at which point he looks up, opens his eyes, and raises a clenched fist to the crowd, who cheer in response. He then starts walking to the ring, giving fist bumps and high-fives to anyone in the crowd who reaches towards him.

POWERS: “From San Francisco, California, weighing in at one hundred eighty-seven pounds…he is the ACM Mexico City Champion and one-half of the BGDF Yin Yang Champions… ‘The Revolution!’… A.J. MMOORRAALLEESS!!!”

As the chorus hits, A.J. climbs onto the apron and vaults himself over the top rope with a somersault. He pops up to his feet and gives a clenched fist salute to the side of the crowd facing the entrance ramp. He repeats this salute on all four sides of the ring, ending with the side facing the hard cam. For this last one, he looks directly into the camera, and after he drops the salute, he mouths the chorus’s last line—”So let me tell you the truth”—before turning to his corner, taking off his leather entrance jacket, putting down his title belts, and limbering up for the match.

JOHNSON: “Morales isn’t just going to be looking to make a statement against Bronx, he’s looking to make a statement to the entire world. He just lost the Seattle Pro Pride Championship not too long ago and I’m sure it’s gotta sting.”

VASSA: “Like my penis when I piss.”

JOHNSON: “What?!”

VASSA: “Chlamydia is everywhere, Stevie. You’re the weird one, here.”

The “Stranger Things” intro starts to kick over the house speakers as the fans give their initial pop when smoke begins to fill the stage. As the remix to “Starboy” kicks in, Bronx slowly makes his way out on stage. Pausing in the middle of the stage, he turns sideways and points a finger gun towards the ring before he pulls the trigger and gives a loud, audible laugh before he continues down the ramp, a smug grin on his face as he slaps hands with hands on either side of the ramp.

JOHNSON: “Bronx has made no bones about the way he feels, regarding Mr. Morales. This week, Valescence came off borderline arrogant regarding how above his opponent he feels he is.”

VASSA: “That’s because he IS so much above his opponent. I wouldn’t be surprised if the former two time 4CW Champion shot out a tweet or two during the match. I love it when he acts like a vacuum cleaner. It is SO hilarious when he acts like a vacuum cleaner.”

JOHNSON: “I don’t think he’ll be tweeting anything, Vinny. The leader of the 4CW locker room, the 4CW cleaner, Bronx is going to look to dominate this incoming decorated champion.”

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring from Portland, Oregon, weighing in at two hundred and five pounds…He is BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”

When Bronx gets down to the end of the ramp, he uses one leap onto the ring apron, and then spins around, holding onto the ropes before rising his feet on the apron and walking over to his corner and using the ropes to vault into the ring. Opening his arms out to either side he spins until he bounces into the ropes and poses one time for the fans before smirking and removing his ring jacket and sunglasses, neatly placing them underneath his corner turnbuckle before leaping onto the top turnbuckle to sit.

The two competitors eyed one another up as the referee checked them for weapons and explained the rules. The bout started with a collar tie lockup that resulted in a hiptoss into a chin lock from Bronx. Morales battled out and sent Bronx toward the ropes, catching him with a drop toe hold upon his return. AJ sprung to his feet, dove toward the ropes, and jumped backward onto the downed former 4CW champion, connecting with a springboard leg drop. Back on his feet, Morales goes for a repeat of the same move, but Bronx rolled out of the way, leaving Morales to land hard on his ass. Valescence smirked and ran a hand through his hair as Morales kipped up. The two charged at one another again, resulting in Morales being floored by a heavy shoulder block from Bronxy V. Morales kipped up again and rushed toward Bronx, just to be caught and sent into the corner via Irish whip.

Bronx followed his opponent and unloaded a series of chops and forearms, all with a smile on his face. “You don’t have enough to beat me,” is the phrase fans close to the action could hear Bronx reiterating over and over again as he pummelled his fed-foreign challenger. “You’re not 4CW! You can’t fucking hack it, Morales!” Bronx exclaimed while he set his reeling opponent on the top rope. Hunched over, Morales was forced to listen to Bronx’s beration as the 4CW standard bearer slapped his opponent in the face a couple of times to insult him before continuing his offense- flashy offense, at that. Bronx went for an early knockout with a fisherman buster from the second rope, immediately rolled into a small package driver. He went for the pin, allowing the referee to count to one, before he let his hold on Morales go, breaking the attempt.

JOHNSON: “Vassa, Bronx is just TOYING with the multiple title holder!”

Bronx continued his unrequited offense. He put his opponent into an octopus stretch. Almost scored a pinfall following a Blue Thunder Driver. For several minutes, Bronx delivered punishment almost unanswered by AJ. And yet, after every high powered move, after every strong attempt at submission, AJ would not give up. The tide turned when AJ was finally able to superkick- the Fuckin’ Slayerrr, to be exact- Bronx up and over the top rope- out of nowhere. Bronx almost fell ringside, but caught himself with the top rope. Dazed, Bronx attempted to shake out the cobwebs from the vicious kick, only to soon find himself victim to a meteora from the top rope delivered by Morales. The crowd pops HUGE as the two fall to the apron and then down to ringside.

JOHNSON: “Morales is not done! He wants to prove he not only belongs in Bronx’s league, but that he’s on the same level as the former 4CW Champion!”

The referee counted as the two wrestlers struggled to reach their feet. Finding their footing at the same time, Morales was able to counter a charging Bronx with a STIFF spinebuster to the hard concrete floor below. The crowd popped big as Morales lifted Valescence up and proceeded to put in work on Bronx’s lower back, nailing a series of snap suplexes on the hard concrete. With the count at a seven, Morales slides back into the ring. He looked around for a moment and then cursed to himself before he hopped back out of the ring, renewing the count and ensuring that this clash of worlds would not end in a count-out. The fans popped for this show of sportsmanship.

VASSA: “What a fucking Heubert!”

Morales lifts Bronx to his feet and goes for a European uppercut, only to have Bronx absorb the impact, lock his hands beneath his opponents armpit and over his shoulder, and throw him backward, over the guardrail, with a beautiful desperation suplex into the crowd. Bronx slowly followed him over the guardrail just to be speared back into it, causing Valescence to cry out in pain. Chairs are cleared away and 4CW security works doubley hard to restrain the 4CW faithful as Morales backs up and executes a perfect slingblade over the iron railing, landing both superstars on the cold concrete ringside. Needless to say, Bronx landed painfully and awkwardly.

JOHNSON: “Would you look at the FIGHT in Morales?!”

The two struggle to find their feet. Morales does first, and this time, he decided that a count-out would be honorable enough. He lies on the mat inside the ring as the referee counts the man who also secretly controls Vossler closer and closer to out. With a count of nine and a half, Bronx was able to find his way back into the ring. After several seconds of the two superstars laying on their backs, sucking air, Morales rolls over and places an A sling shot spear nearly put Morales away, as well. The closest fall of the night came after a springboard blockbuster. “For Ana,” a chaos-theory, rolling, bridging German suplex almost yielded the former champion a victory, as well. The crowd chanted, “this is awesome,” as the two battled back and forth. Morales took control back with a 94 Blitz (striking spear).

ONE

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TWO

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The raucous crowd was unanimously on its feet, electricity pulsing through each and every one of them. Bronx took back control after a VICIOUS Tweet Delete (apron to ring German Suplex over the top rope). With Morales out on his feet, barely moving, Valescence goes to the corner and grabs his pair of sunglasses and attempts to put them on, but the sweat and fatigue in his arms cause them to fall to the mat. Disregarding this blunder, as time is of the essence, he ascends to the top rope and hits True Light’s Flight, a corkscrew moonsault.

JOHNSON: “BRONX HAS NEVER HIT THAT MOVE WITHOUT HIS SUNGLASSES!”

VASSA: “Morales will NOT go away, Stevie! For the first time, Valescence didn’t have time to waste!”

Bronx makes the pin.

ONE

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TWO

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THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

WINNER: Bronx Valescence by Pinfall (16:32)

Following the match, Valescence helped Morales to his feet and pulled him in for a big bro-hug. The crowd popped something insane. Morales raised Bronx’s hand in the air, before Bronx pulled it away, just to return the favor to AJ. The crowd surged with elation as the two hugged again, each patting one another on the back. Bronx could be seen mouthing, “you’re the fuckin’ man,” as he pointed at his opponent over and over after an extremely hard fought victory. The Stranger Things theme song played as the two congratulated one another on a hell of a match. Bronx motioned to the back and then pointed at his opponent, mouthing something unintelligible to the untrained eye, but to the techs in the back, it was understood. Stranger Things ended and “Reverse the Curse” began to echo throughout the arena to a HUGE pop.

JOHNSON: “What a TREMENDOUS show of respect for AJ Morales!”

VASSA: “The guy even earned MY respect, Stevie!”

With an exhausted smile, Morales left the ring and played to the fans, knowing that he had wrestled one of the best matches of his career, despite the loss. He headed to the back, slapping hands with old fans and new, having won the respect of everyone in the building- namely, that of Bronx Valescence.

Bronx fell to the mat and rolled beneath the ropes as he began to make his way toward the back. As Morales exited through the back curtain, a new figure emerged.

JOHNSON: “What is Boston doing out here?!”

Boston jaunts his way down the ring, clapping and screaming with exaggerated fervor. Bronx stops and readies himself for an attack, but the new Adrenaline GM just waltzed right up to the guarded warrior and began patting him on the back with all of the jubilation he could muster.

BOSTON: “YOU’RE THE MAN, CHAMP! WHAT A CLASS ACT! YOU’RE SUCH A CLASS ACT!”

JOHNSON: “What the-?”

VASSA: “This guy is WEIRD, folks.”

Boston motions up toward the ceiling before grabbing both of Valescence’s legs, clearly attempting to lift the living 4CW legend upon his shoulder. Bronx, at first befuddled, becomes incensed and pushes his sarcastic tormentor away with all of his might. Boston stumbles away and breaks into a fit of laughter, as he simply stands and applauds the wartorn ring and locker room general.

BOSTON: “Get back to YOUR locker room, champ! They wanna see you in YOUR locker room, Mr. 4CW! You’re the GREATEST, champ! I love you, champ!”

Bronx holds his arms out to his sides and motions for Boston to bring on the fight, but Boston falls to his knees and facisciously begs Bronx’s pardon. Bronx just saunters past the strange former wrestler turned administrative figure with a disgusted, yet perplexed look on his face as the scene fades to other Adrenaline action.

MAIN EVENT
BRYAN LAUGHLIN VS. ANASTASIA HAYDEN

The bell sounds a couple of times as we are ready for our main event.

POWERS: ”The following match is scheduled for ONE FALL!!!”

The heavy opening guitar riff from “Out of My Mind” by Mushroomhead hits over the speakers as a slight fog grows around the curtain and Bryan Laughlin emerges walking slowly and stopping in the middle of the stage he tightens his leather gloves on his hands allowing the strobe lights that are methodically flashing to the bass thump in the music drown him in mystery.

“Judge me for what I am

The passage of death

You don’t play, you don’t win

You change nothing

You gain nothing

Everybody’s out from here on in”

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring first, from Los Angeles, California by way of Cleveland, Ohio! Weighing in at two hundred twenty five pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall, this IS, BRYAN LLAAUUGGHHLLIINN!!!”

As he reaches the apron of the ring he turns to put his back on the apron and stare back at the entrance ramp that he had just walked down. Throwing his hands up in the air as the chorus hits and the lights simultaneously travel to him in a spot light that he basks in with his eyes closed he then smiles before sliding into the ring on his stomach and makes eye contact with the nearest camera for a bit longer than most would before hopping to his feet and duplicating what he did outside on the apron by leaning against the ropes.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

“Word up, son, word, yeah

To all the killers and a hundred dollar billers

For real, niggas who ain’t got no feelings

Check it out now”

The lighting in the building darkens a bit before the opening of “Shook Ones (Part II)” by Mobb Deep starts playing and the crowd begins to boo. As soon as the intro of the song finishes, Anastasia Hayden steps out from the curtains, holding her 4CW Championship by its strap. The negative reception doesn’t bother her as she stands at the top of the entrance, surveying the ring and the crowd before she starts to make her way down to the ring.

”I got you stuck off the realness, we be the infamous

You heard of us, official Queensbridge murderers

The Mobb comes equipped for warfare, beware

Of my crime family who got ‘nough shots to share”

POWERS: ”Making her way to the ring, hailing from Steele, North Dakota…weighing in at one hundred twenty-eight pounds…she is the ‘GRAND DUCHESS’…and the current 4CW CHAMPION… ANASTASIA HHAAYYDDEENN!!!”

”Rock you in your face, stab your brain with your nose bone

You all alone in these streets, cousin

Every man for they self in this land we be gunnin’

And keep them shook crews runnin’, like they supposed to

They come around, but they never come close to”

The announcement of her name only draws more hatred from the crowd as she tosses the 4CW Championship into the ring before leaping up to the apron and climbing through the ropes. Lifting her championship off the canvas, she holds it up high for a few seconds before dragging it over to a free corner in the ring and dropping it back on the mat before she perches herself onto the top turnbuckle.

As the bell sounds, Laughlin is locked in. Ana comes out of her corner lazily and rubs her hands together. Laughlin lunges for the lock up early but Ana merely rolls out of the way and looks over her shoulder with a smirk on her face towards Laughlin. Laughlin shakes his head and goes to lock up Ana again but she rolls and this time she comes up with a shook kick right into the side but Laughlin absorbs it. He tries closing off the ring on Ana, moving closer and closer. She goes to roll out of the way at about 46 seconds into the match but Ana catches Laughlin’s leg and rolls him up quickly!

ONE

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TWO

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THR–

Laughlin kicks out. He is up on his knees looking at the referee wide eyed, Ana smirks over to him and holds up an inch with her finger and thumb letting him know that she almost had him. And almost had him in 49 seconds. Laughlin puts his hands on his head and rushes at Ana, she ducks out of the way, as she comes back, Laughlin dives at her feet causing her to jump over him. Ana’s momentum carries her into the ropes and Laughlin lays in a shoulder block so hard it sends Ana head over heels and onto her back.

JOHNSON: “We’re already seeing what we are going to see out of both of these competitors. It’s size versus Power. Ana packs a punch, but nobody in 4CW has the mass that Laughlin has.”

VASSA: “Sounds like you got a hard-on for him.”

As Ana tries to get up, Laughlin helps her by grabbing her right by the chin! He hits rapid fire forearms to bring Ana back down to her stomach and then he begins stomping her out onto the apron. Laughlin then goes between the ropes and picks Ana up. She fights off with a wicked open palm strike that rattled Laughlin. He stumbles backwards. Laughlin comes back and hits a forearm of his own and then Ana immediately answers with a palm strike. The strikes are loud, they echo around the arena. Finally they’re so fast and furious, both swinging like a hockey fight until Laughlin hooks both of Ana’s arms and headbutts! The sound is sickening as well as Laughlin’s

JOHNSON: “Oh my God! Did you see that?!”

VASSA: “Did you HEAR that?!”

Ana is holding on just barely by the ropes. Laughlin looks at her and then looks down at the ringside area. He hops down off the apron with a small trickle of blood coming off of his forehead. He bends down and begins pulling up the mat around the area. The referee slides to the outside to try to stop him before counting him out. He warns Laughlin but Laughlin scoffs and tells him to get the fuck out of the way. Laughlin pushes the mat back and turns back to Ana who comes to life… leaps off of the apron and HITS A DOUBLE STOMP ON LAUGHLIN ON THE CONCRETE!

JOHNSON: “I THINK ANA JUST TRIED TO PUT LAUGHLIN THROUGH THE FLOOR OF THE ARENA!”

VASSA: “And with that mentality is why she survived Ante Up to become the 4CW Champion!”

Laughlin is clutching his chest, Ana picks him up and pushes him into the ring, using her head against his torso to roll him over and makes the second cover of the match.

ONE

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TWO

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NO! Laughlin gets a shoulder up, he holds his chest as he does. Ana rolls off and leaps into the air and yells as she brings a knee down onto Laughlin’s chest. She stands up and repeats the process a few times before she forces his shoulders back down for the count.

ONE

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TWO

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Laughlin kicks out again as he kicks his leg afterwards because of the pain.

JOHNSON: “Not only is Ana damaging that chest, but she’s also making Laughlin kick out, which is just hurting him further.”

VASSA: “We’ve seen Ana pick apart body parts before. But going right into the chest of Laughlin is a pretty brave strategy.”

JOHNSON: “Like trying to chisel through stone.”

VASSA: “There you go again, dude.”

Ana hooks Laughlin’s head underneath her arm and brings him back to his feet. She begins shoot kicking him right in the chest. He tries to absorb the blows but Ana is really laying it in. Violently, Laughlin shakes against the turnbuckles. He throws a forearm to get some room but Ana keeps him right into the corner, kicking him so hard he goes to a seated position. Ana begins giving him the face wash with her boot, over and over adding insult to injury and finally Laughlin escapes by rolling to the outside. Ana slaps her hands together letting the crowd knows what is next.

JOHNSON: “Ana is looking to take off!”

Hayden bounces off the ropes and dives through the middle towards Laughlin but… LAUGHLIN CATCHES HER! He drops her down to her feet, and then pulls her into the jumping front sleeper hold side slam! Laughlin clutches his chest with one arm and tosses Ana towards the apron with the other. She rolls in, Laughlin crawls in after her and hooks both legs as he makes the cover!

ONE

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TWO

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THR–

NO! The 4CW Champion kicks out. Laughlin pulls Ana up into a cravat walking her around the ring. He screams at her that he was there when she wasn’t. He then flips her over in a snapmare, bounces off the ropes, as she turns around and goes to her knees, Laughlin hits a block buster! Bryan makes another cover and hooks both legs, making the most out of his chances!

ONE

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TWO

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No! Ana is out this time, sitting straight up. Laughlin crawls in front of her and looks to her before he open palm strikes her right across the face. Ana topples back over. Laughlin gets to his feet and puts Ana between his legs and lifts her for a power bomb but Ana goes back over his back and sunset flips him!

ONE

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TWO

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Laughlin rolls back out and when he does, Ana clocks him with a running knee right to the side of the head. Laughlin is stunned, he tries to blink away the stars he is seeing but Ana bounces off the ropes and comes back just as Laughlin is getting up and hits a lariat… but LAUGHLIN DOESN’T BUDGE! He just looks at her and yells in her face. Ana stumbles backwards and shoots open palm strikes at him, over and over, and over. She connects with every single one but Laughlin seems to be absorbing them. He yells again but this time Ana super kicks him, as he turns around… she HITS THE BLACK STAR! The reverse rana spikes Laughlin! He tries to stand up but the adrenaline can only take him so far as he collapses. Ana makes the cover as the crowd chants along!

ONE

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TWO

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THR–

NO!

JOHNSON: “The action has been so fast. Both of these two giving it their best, but damn Laughlin just took a lot of punishment!”

VASSA: “Sometimes you fight with your heart instead of your body. Laughlin’s body has taken a lot of punishment over the years.”

Ana doesn’t show any emotion either way. She stands up to the corner and motions for Laughlin to get up. She continues to motion to him until Laughlin is to his feet. He staggers and tries to hold himself up. Ana comes across the ring with a bicycle kick. Laughlin bounces into the ropes and comes back and goes for a tornado DDT but Ana blocks it so Laughlin lands back on his feet. Ana goes for a knee but Laughlin catches it and spins her around so she exposes her back. Ana and Laughlin rushes forward but Ana hooks the top rope so Laughlin can’t throw her with a german.

JOHNSON: “These two have seen a lot of each other in the last few weeks. You can tell it by all of these counters.”

VASSA: “Both masters of the ring. And both do their homework to do so well.”

Hayden blocks another one as Laughlin slips and rolls back. Ana goes for a knee, but Laughlin is able to capture her! He lifts her up and tries to go for a power bomb but instead Ana rolls through and tosses him with a head sissors but Laughlin uses his hands to do a headstand and then roll through back to his feet! Ana turns around and as she does Laughlin hits a European uppercut! Ana staggers back. Laughlin drops down to one knee again. Ana senses weakness, rushes forward but Laughlin throws a Lariat! Ana ducks, she bounces off the ropes—-no she comes back around quickly with a waist lock trying to toss Laughlin with a german but he blocks it, drops down to his stomach, grabs the arm of Ana pulling it underneath her which flips her over to her back. He bounces off the ropes and goes for an elbow but Ana moves out of the way!

JOHNSON: “Counter for counter! This is something else to watch!”

VASSA: “I don’t think either of them have landed a shot in the last 10 minutes!”

Ana kips back to her feet as Laughlin rolls forward and lands on his own. Ana comes towards Bryan and grabs his arm going for an arm drag but Laughlin holds on, pulls her back up and grabs her throat, he lifts her into the air for a chokeslam but Ana kicks his chest and Laughlin drops her.

Hayden goes for a spinning wheel kick but Laughlin catches her and chucks her with a modified t-bone suplex but Ana does a barrel roll in mid air and lands on her feet. Laughlin is a bit slower to turn around and when he does, Ana kicks a shot gun drop kick to the chest, there’s a huge pop for a move finally fully connecting as Laughlin goes into the ropes hard and then falls picture perfectly underneath the turnbuckles. Ana is spent from the counter-fest as she leans on the top rope with her arm draped over it. Her eyes flutter to the top rope as she slowly goes through the ropes and begins to climb ever so slowly.

Laughlin begins to get to his feet, when he does he looks around for Ana, but he doesn’t realize she is right behind him. He turns and Ana sails HIGH into the air looking for a cross body and she connects! But Laughlin rolls through and stands up holding Ana in his arms. He drops her side on his knee, once, twice and then hits a FALCON ARROW! The crowd groans as Laughlin pulls one leg up of Ana’s.

ONE

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TWO

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THR–

NO!

Ana kicks out!

Bryan hits up and slaps his hands together and looks at the referee as if to say ‘really?’ The referee assures him that it was only a two. Laughlin rolls to his knees and shakes his head. He grabs Ana by the head and slams her face into the mat as she had rolled over to her stomach. Then he does it again. And again. Ana is getting rag dolled at the moment. Laughlin lifts her up by the hair of the head and yells again about how when she won the title he was there the next night. He slams her head down again.

JOHNSON: “Bryan trying to give our 4CW Champion some head trauma right now.”

VASSA: “Like Ben Roethlisberger, Ana is going to stay in concussion protocol with the 4CW doctors at this rate.”

Bryan stands up and grabs both of Ana’s arms and pulls them behind her head and begins brutally stomping her until finally he brings his boot down and curb stomps her. Ana lies limp on the mat as Laughlin rolls her over and makes the pin attempt.

ONE

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TWO

ANA GETS A SHOULDER UP! Laughlin sputters as he looks to her and then throws her back and hooks BOTH legs with a back press.

ONE

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TWO

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Laughlin stands up and puts his hands on his hips. Ana crawls towards the ropes and pulls herself to her feet but Bryan grabs her foot. Ana has both hands on the bottom rope, then the middle and then the top. She uses it to bring her other foot around and it connects right in the back of the head of Bryan! His chin tucks as he stumbles backwards into the ropes and on his way back. Ana fires up and lets out a yell of her own as she finally hits her spinning wheel kick! She topples Laughlin as he lands on his back, reaching up to the sky for some sort of answer on how to beat the 4CW Champion.

JOHNSON: “Every strike. Every move has just shaken the 4CW faithful to their core. You can hear every single shot laid in.”

Ana crawls towards Laughlin but she doesn’t go for the pin. The Champ shakes her head. She grabs Laughlin by the hair and pulls him to his feet. Ana spits RIGHT IN HIS FACE and then backs away and drills him with a thrust kick! Then another! Then another! Each slaps louder than the last. Laughlin goes down to one knee and holds his head. Ana fakes another thrust kick but Laughlin covers up and shows the top of his head. Ana grabs him and lifts him into a fisherman’s DDT! Ana pops up instantly and makes the cover!

ONE

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TWO

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THR–

NO!

Laughlin gets a shoulder up!

JOHNSON: “ANOTHER kick out by Laughlin! Is he human?”

VASSA: “To get to this stage in 4CW? You have to lose a little of your humanity, and these two? They’ve lost a lot.”

As Laughlin gets his shoulder in the air, Ana grabs it, hooks him underneath her arm and then brings her off elbow down into the neck and head of Laughlin. She tells the referee to ask him if he wants to quit. Laughlin shakes his head but Ana continues to bring down the pain. Laughlin is able to turn around and get her leg across the bottom rope. The referee begins counting her down and he has to pull Ana off of. Ana yells about how she is the champion and has ’til five and the referee points to the 4CW on his shirt to show he is the authority. Ana rolls her eyes and moves the referee out of the way. She bends down to pick Laughlin up after the onslaught but LAUGHLIN PULLS HER INTO A SMALL PACKAGE!

ONE

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TWO

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THR–

No! Ana kicks out so hard she lands on her stomach, but as she goes to push her way up. Laughlin stomps her in the small of the back, grabs both arms and latches into a STRETCHEM! He slowly bends Ana’s neck back and locks IN THE DRAGON SLEEPER! The crowd is buzzing! Ana kicks her legs as the referee gets down and asks the champion if she wants to quit! Ana screams no!

JOHNSON: “LAUGHLIN HAS IT LOCKED IN! HAYDEN HAS NO WHERE TO GO!”

VASSA: “HAYDEN IS IN A WORLD OF TROUBLE!”

Ana reaches but the ropes are a lightyear away. She kicks her legs trying to find those. Laughlin wrenches back on the submission, nodding his head. Ana brings her hand up and goes to tap, the referee goes to call for the bell but she brings her hand into her head and begins pulling her own hair and hitting herself as to try and keep herself from tapping out!

JOHNSON: “BRYAN LAUGHLIN IS SECONDS AWAY!”

VASSA: “What is Ana doing? She’s beating herself up so she won’t tap!”

Laughlin leans all the way back, as he does, this allows Ana who is smaller to slip underneath him, as he goes to compensate for the slip, Ana slips back and gets a foot on the bottom rope. The referee notices and points to Laughlin who groans and lets Ana go. He lowers his head, knowing that was it. But then he realizes he has to stay on the attack. Laughlin sizes Ana up, he points a finger gun at her and pulls the trigger, maybe an ode to someone else on the roster. Maybe not. He then goes for the BSKE! Ana dodges the super kick on the run, bounces off the ropes and comes back with a…

JOHNSON: “SHE WAS ONLY SEVENTEEN! ANA GETS ALL OF IT!”

VASSA: “All she wrote for Bryan Laughlin.”

Ana falls onto Laughlin for the pin fall. The crowd counts along.

ONE

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TWO

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THR–

Ana thinks the three came, but the referee held up even with no kick out. The referee is pointing to something. Bryan Laughlin JUST got his foot on the rope. Ana puts her head in her hands, she can’t believe it. Her mouth is open in shock. The simple mistake of Laughlin being too close to the ropes. Ana punches the mat and stands up. She makes a cut throat motion. Laughlin staggers. Ana pulls Laughlin’s arm and goes underneath hooking him around the neck and goes to flip over top of him for Deadman’s Curve but Laughlin catches Ana on his shoulders! The crowd rises to it’s feet as he spins Ana around mid air and catches her with a gut buster!

JOHNSON: “BL JUST REVERSED THE DEADMAN’S CURVE INTO THE GOOD MORNING AMERICA!”

Hayden bounces off of his knees and lands in the center of the ring and Bryan does all he can just to drape an arm across her.

ONE

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TWO

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THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

Laughlin looks over to make sure it’s real but sure enough the referee drops down to one knee and raises his hand as Hayden is rolling around holding her midsection.

VASSA: “The crazy son of a bitch done it!”

Bryan stands up as the referee raises his hand.

POWERS: “Your winner… BRYAN… LLAAUUGGHHLLIINN!!!”

The crowd is on their feet for the hot main event as Bryan clutches his chest and holds up his hand again.

JOHNSON: “The 4CW Champion goes down tonight at the hands of Bryan Laughlin, but folks. Isn’t that the way it works in 4CW. On any given night, anyone can be defeated.”

VASSA: “We argue quite a bit, but I have to agree with that. Ana has nothing to hang her head about, it’s nearly impossible—even as champion to get a win each and every week.”

JOHNSON: ”After a upsetting draw just two weeks ago, Ana has now fallen to an upsetting loss right here in Seattle.”

VASSA: ”It’s the nature of the beast. She’s the 4CW Champion and she’s going to get the best out of each and every person she faces for as long as she holds wears the crown.”

JOHNSON: ”Her first defense has already been announced which will happen two weeks following Bad Company against the Pride Champion, Viduus Morta.”

VASSA: ”Take last show, tonight, Bad Company in two weeks, and then Adrenaline Ninety following that… it’s been nothing but tough matches up to this point and beyond.”

JOHNSON: ”Bad Company is a one night tournament. Let’s just say that her and Bronx were to win it all, that’s a lot of matches in one night with little time to rest before her big defense.”

VASSA: ”It ain’t easy being the 4CW Champ.”

JOHNSON: ”Ain’t that the truth!”

VASSA: ”Just ask Bronx. He did it longer than anyone else with the toughest challenges on his plate than any 4CW Champion before him had ever faced.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s what we do here in 4CW. We house the best the wrestling world has to offer and all anyone can do about it is cry and throw a fit.”

VASSA: ”Don’t forget reporting people on social media!”

JOHNSON: ”I wouldn’t know.”

VASSA: ”You probably have a secret account and are behind everyone getting their accounts suspended.”

JOHNSON: ”I still have a rotary phone, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”Wow.”

JOHNSON: ”And on that note, I think it’s a good time to call it a night.”

VASSA: ”I think that’s a good idea. I can already hear everyone joking about you now.”

JOHNSON: ”They can joke all they want to but I’ll be alright because in less than two weeks, I’ll be soaking it up on the beach in Hawaii.”

VASSA: ”Jesus Christ I can’t wait! There’s going to be titties everywhere. EVERYWHERE I TELL YOU!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Calm down, calm down. You don’t have to wait long because in just two weeks 4CW heads to Honolulu, Hawaii for Bad Company.”

VASSA: ”TITTIES!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed folks! Well, it’s been a pleasure. We’ll see you at Bad Company. I’m Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good fight and goodnight!”

The camera focuses on Laughlin as he celebrates his victory in the ring, and this time without any outside interruptions whatsoever. Standing on the corner, he looks out over the crowd with both arms raised high above his head as the picture slowly fades to black and the credits begin to roll.